


The Truth That Sticks

by All_the_damned_vampires



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Abuse, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Dark, Alternate Universe - Mob, Confinement, Consent Issues, Cultural Appropriation, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dehumanization, F/F, Gender Issues, Graphic Description, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Medical Procedures, Mental Breakdown, Minor Character Death, Oral Sex, Psychological Torture, Rape Aftermath, Rutting, Semen as a sedative, mention of genital mutilation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-13
Updated: 2017-01-16
Packaged: 2018-02-21 01:42:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 13
Words: 26,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2450045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/All_the_damned_vampires/pseuds/All_the_damned_vampires
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Betrayal is the only truth that sticks." --Arthur Miller</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Schmoop is apparently my kryptonite.
> 
> I was working on something sweet and romantic for a challenge and to protect itself from the goodness and light my brain came up with THIS.
> 
> Heed the warnings, please.

Jared watched out the window of his classroom as the omega bus pulled away from the loading zone, trundled on down the road. He should have been on that bus. But Mr. Collins, his home room and language arts teacher, had asked him to stay late. Had said he wanted to talk about Jared's future.

"Earth to Jared," Mr. Collins said and Jared turned away from the window and forced a smile. He had no reason to dislike Mr. Collins, who was easy going and slightly dorky, didn't wince at the spitballs and paper airplanes, was always ready with a movie in place of a test or assignment. But he didn't like Mr. Collins. Mr. Collins always said "good job" regardless of what you turned in and occasionally an "isn't that cute" when you were earnestly sharing your opinion. Mr. Collins who taught omegas and didn't seem to think much of them.

"Jared, I have your assignment here. You wrote about how you wanted to go to college. I just wanted to make sure that's what you put down." Mr. Collins tugged at his perpetually unruly dark hair, offered up a bland smile.

Jared swallowed hard to hold back his sharp tongue. His parents had taught him to be respectful to his elders. And he was aware that omegas, rare as they may be, were held to even higher standards of etiquette. But you would think Mr. Collins would realize that he knew enough to write his own thoughts on his own paper!

"Yes, Mr. Collins. There are three universities offering programs for omegas."

"But engineering! Jared hon, you realize that's a hard science."

"I like math. I'm good at it."

"And you're so pretty. Easily one of the prettiest omegas in your class. There are advantages to that, Jared."

Jared looked out the window again. Most of the cars in the parking lot were gone. There was a black sedan idling in the handicapped space, and he could see a group of students, alphas and betas most definitely, chatting near the flagpole.

"You said you would drive me home," Jared reminded his teacher.

"Of course, Jared. I know you need to be chaperoned. Now about your plans. You didn't mention a mate. You know that omegas need the permission of their alphas to continue schooling."

"That's old fashioned,"Jared responded defensively. "Laws are changing now. We even have an omega representative in government."

"Yes. Mated. And there with the blessing of his alpha." Mr. Collins' tone made it clear he thought that was both adorable and slightly ridiculous.

"My dad said I could continue with school. He said I didn't need to find a mate until I wanted to. And I'm only 15."

"Your dad is an alpha?"

"A beta," Jared said weakly. "Like you." Mr. Collins tsked and Jared rolled his eyes. The law was clear that an alpha ruled over an omega, above any beta guardian. But Jared didn't have an alpha parent. He was the first omega ever on his dad's side of the family.

"Well, maybe we can talk about this with your parents. Have a little meeting."

"Okay,"Jared said. His dad would back him up. And it wasn't Mr. Collins decision anyway.

"Okay, then." Mr. Collins stood up, dusted off his pleated slacks. "I'll go get my things from the teachers' lounge and I'll drive you home."

Jared waited, staring out the window. The group of students had dispersed. The sedan was still idling, not a car any teacher could afford. He began to feel uneasy. There was no reason to. Not really. But omegas were generally not allowed out alone. It was annoying, but necessary. Jared had been leered at in grocery stores, crowded into corners in libraries. There weren't as many alphas as there were betas, but there were many more alphas than omegas and they all seemed to have a caveman mentality. Jared spent most of his time at friends' houses, or in carefully chaperoned groups. Sometimes when his parents drove past the park he would look out at the basketball courts and wish he could stretch his legs and play. But it wasn't safe.

The lights went out and Jared startled. No reason to feel nervous. It was still light outside and the large classroom windows let it stream in, golden in the afternoon. But Mr. Collins was taking his time.

Jared stood. Paced back and forth. There was a chill running up his spine. No reason to worry. But that group of students was no where in sight. An alpha and his beta cronies could easily overpower a teacher. They might be in the hallways right now. The instinct for flight was overwhelming and Jared hesitated for a moment, then shoved his backpack under a desk. He could retrieve it tomorrow.

He stepped carefully out into the darkened hallway, eyes tracking from side to side and nostrils flared. He smelled nothing but beta and underage omega, as he should in this wing of the school. He walked quietly to the door of the teacher's lounge. The lights were off there too. A tug of the door handle. Locked.

Jared started to hurry down the hallway, heading for the illuminated exit sign. He cut through the back fence of the school and took the alley, heading toward home. There was no reason to be nervous, Jared told himself, although his sweaty palms and thundering heart made it clear he was kidding himself. Okay, so he was out alone. He was young. It wasn't like he was in heat, eye of the storm, body on fire and out of control, a siren's call to every unattached alpha. Or post-first-heat and clearly mature, swing to his hips and all eyes on his form and his scent. He was young. He would walk home, and he would be fine.

There was a black luxury sedan following him. Of course there was, because of course it wasn't fine. He had known it all along and he had been stupid. The car pulled up along side him and the driver side window rolled down and Jared took in the sight of two stone faced thugs, two betas based on scent and size. He tried to walk faster and felt the driver accelerate slightly to match his pace.

"Someone wants to talk to you, kid."

"That's okay," Jared said, feeling the sweat running down his cheek, the burn in his legs.

"Get in the car, omega."

"I'm just going home." There was a gap in the fence, an empty field.

"Get in now!"

Jared lurched to the left and shimmied through the hole, burst out into the tall grass, legs churning, running flat out. He heard a car door slam, tires squeal, and the shout of someone behind him. Not looking back, he forced himself to run faster, breath hot and choppy, a pounding in his ears. It was fine, fine, everything was fine, just three more blocks and he was home. It was all fine.

There was a blur from the side and a bigger body was taking him down, crushing his face into weeds and dirt, knocking the wind out of him. He lay panting under the weight, hands holding him down, and watched the approach of slick black dress shoes, slow and leisurely, not a care in the world, collecting bits of weed and dirt, shine slowly dulling upon approach.

"Fast runner, isn't he?" said a new voice, rich and amused.

"Little shit!" Suddenly Jared's face was being ground into the dirt.

"Hey, that's my property, Boyd." And the voice wasn't so amused anymore. It was hard and dangerous.

Jared felt himself being hauled up, dangling in Boyd's arms. The alpha before him was his father's age, black hair peppered with silver, dark eyes and a big white grin. Gray suit and violet silk tie, as slick as his shoes.

"Hi, sweetheart," the alpha said, "You're the one."

Jared screamed. He screamed and screamed. There were houses nearby, surely someone would...do something. Because everything was fine and none of this was happening.

"You want me to let him go, boss? Do it the old fashioned way?"

"I think he's run enough. Just drape him over the trunk of the car."

It was happening. Jared felt himself lifted bodily, legs and arms dangling limp in shock. He could hear talking, laughter, but it was just a faraway buzz in his ears. He was draped over the car, hands tied behind with something soft, cutting sharply into the skin of his thin wrists. His legs spread wide toes brushing the dirt, pants pulled down around his knees. None of this was real.

Sharp stabbing push and it was real it was all real. Jared screamed again, felt a warm palm clamp down over his mouth, bruising his lips and swallowing his scream. He was pinned at the neck by a strong hand, arms trapped between his back and the man covering him, making his shoulders ache. He could feel himself tearing, wet liquid that must be blood running gritty down his legs. The pounding was relentless.

"Aren't they supposed to get wet, boss?"

Cruel laugher is his ears. "Sweetheart here is too young for that. Don't worry, omega, you'll be fine."

Jared moaned and began to sob, wet and straining behind the hand that was gagging him. He could smell lavender and tobacco and realized it was drifting from the shirt sleeve rubbing against his cheek. The thrusting continued and suddenly everything was hurting more, more. He could feel that torn place being stretched wider and wider. He began to scream anew.

"Just relax. That's my knot. Just relax and let it in, sweetheart."

Jared struggled harder, screaming. He felt sharp teeth at his throat, a stinging bite, at the same time something gave below and he was full, so full.

He felt his eyes flutter shut and he was beyond grateful when everything went dark and still.

***

There was the purr of a finely tuned motor and a smooth rocking motion. There was the scent of alpha and beta and lavender and tobacco and semen and vomit and blood.

Jared opened his eyes. He was lying on a leather seat, legs scrunched up awkwardly, head pillowed on a lap. His neck and lower half were throbbing painfully. The man who had bent him over the car was stroking a hand through Jared's hair and at Jared's soft moan he looked down, a smile on his handsome face.

"Hi, sweetheart."

Jared made to move away, then froze when he felt the alpha's fist tighten in his hair, saw the man's lip lift in a snarl.

"Stay still. After all, I claimed you. You belong to me now."

"Wanna go home," Jared said weakly.

"Soon. I'm taking you to your parents' house. I'll be in touch with them to make the arrangements."

And Jared realized that when the alpha said "home" he meant his home. Where Jared would live now. Because he had been claimed. Mated. He didn't live with his parents now. He belonged to this stranger. For as long as he lived.

Jared closed his eyes. Felt his skin shudder with each caress. Nothing to be done for it now. Nothing to be done at all.

A short time later and the car rumbled to a halt. Jared heard the driver get out, open the back door. He felt himself pulled from the alpha's lap and swallowed a shout as his body screamed in agony. The beta propped him up, helping him onto the curb and up to the walk, legs rubbery, pants stiff with blood.

"Jared," the alpha said and Jared turned. The alpha had a smooth vellum card and pressed it between Jared's dirt smeared fingers.

In elegant script the card read: Verdant Waste Management, Jeffrey Dean Morgan, President.

"Tell your father I'll be in touch," the alpha said smiling.

His thug let Jared go, leaving him shaking on the sideway. The door slammed and then the car that contained Jared's worst nightmare was gliding away from the curb, heading off down the street.

He had known his name. He had known his name the whole time.

Jared struggled up the walk. As he approached the stairs he saw the porch light click on, the peeling wooden door creak open. His mother stood in the doorway, looking down at him. She took in his dirt and sweat stained clothes, the rough red edges of the bite on his neck, his stricken face smeared with tears and snot.

"Oh, Jared," she said, "what did you do?"


	2. The Catch

_"What did you do?"_

He couldn't remember the last time his mother had been in the bathroom with him. Jared supposed he should have been embarrassed, but he was feeling too much to be bashful. He hurt. Everything hurt. He was dirty and aching all over. His heart hurt too. His mother looking at him like she didn't know who he was.

He had come into the house and stammered out a short explanation. Attacked on the way home from school. His father had been shocked, had shouted and exclaimed and was now in the study, on the phone to the police. His mother had simply sighed, jerked the card from his hand and examined the fine script, never once looking him in the eyes. Then she has said brusquely, "Go get undressed and run yourself a bath. I'll call the doctor."

Now he was sitting in bath water rapidly turning pinkish brown. He had red marks on his wrists, and his left shoulder ached like he had wrenched it. There was dirt under his fingernails. At the end of the tub his toes peeked out of the water, pale and innocent. They looked like the feet of someone who'd never had anything bad happened to them.

His mother sighed, came in through the open door. Plopped down on the toilet lid, phone still dangling from her hand.

He had always had a strained relationship with his mother. She had moved from a conservative farming community to a small college town, had been raised within the archaic value system of a pack. But it wasn't as if she went around spouting off about alpha superiority and omega inferiority. If anything, she was too quiet about it. His father thought all three sub-genders should be treated equally, as many civilized betas did, betas who often couldn't count either an alpha or an omega among their friends or family. Jared's father treated Jared like a beta child, smart and valued, raising him as he himself had been raised. He had been frustrated with the safety requirements for an omega, the way it limited what Jared could do, but soon took the concerns seriously as Jared grew older. But his mother held herself distant. It was hard for Jared to explain, to parse out in his own mind. She told him to eat his vegetables, was disappointed if he got a poor mark on a test, often came home with a book she thought he might like. But how could he explain to her that whenever he pressed in close for a hug, a hug always initiated by him, there still seemed to be an inch of space between their skin.

"The doctor should be here soon," she said, staring at some spot over Jared's head. "Then we'll see what the damage is."

"Mom?"

His mother sighed again. Rubbed a hand across her forehead.

"M-mommy?"

"What is it, Jared?"

"Are you...do you hate me now?"

"No, Jared."

"I...it was my fault. Mr. Collins asked me to stay. Then I was alone. I'm s-sorry."

His mother's head snapped up and she locked eyes with her son. Jared felt himself shrink back against the porcelain wall of the tub under the intensity of her gaze.

"It wasn't your fault," she said fiercely, then the anger was gone as if it never happened. She looked away, lips pinched.

Jared sat in the water, aching. He wished she would reach out, would comfort him. But it had never been her way.

"Do you know what it's called, Jared? What just happened to you?"

Jared shook his head.

"It's called a "catch." It's more common in other parts of the country, rural areas. It's illegal in some states. It's related to a "hunt," which is banned everywhere now. Some of the more traditional communities do it. An omega is lured into the open by a trusted beta, sometimes even a family member. Sometimes the omega is in on it, maybe they have found an alpha that their parents don't approve of. But most of the time they don't know. Most of the time it's a betrayal."

Jared listened. Then he understood. Mr. Collins. Mr. Collins had helped.

"My sister was an omega," his mother compressed her lips into a thin grim line. "I had a cousin too. Couldn't wait to get out of that pack, get away from that mentality. Thought I escaped by marrying a man who's family never sired an omega. And then my firstborn, an omega. God must be punishing me."

"Mom?"

His mother stood. Dusted off her hands, like she was washing away her responsibilities to him. Her eyes slipping over and past him, almost like he didn't exist.

"At least he's claimed you," she said, opening the door to leave the bathroom, "it could have been much worse."

***

The doctor who arrived was a beta, sweet faced with kind dark eyes, hair in a smooth honey wave. Jared had expected her to ask him to lay back and open his legs, had been shivering and shaking as he prepared for an impersonal invasion, but she had smiled and suggested he change out of the bath towel and into a warm robe. Once he was bundled up, still shaking, she sat down next to him, took his hand, examined the purplish bruising on his wrists.

"Hello, Jared. My name is Doctor Ferris. I've worked with omegas before. Your mother told me what happened. Can you tell me where you're hurting?"

"My face hurts," Jared said hoarsely. His cheek stung from being ground into gritty dirt. It was the easiest thing to talk about.

Dr. Ferris gently cupped his face, tilting his head so the bedroom light shone on his face.

"Bad bruise," she agreed, "We'll get some ointment for it. Your wrists also." She reached out, grasped his shoulders, manipulating his limbs. Jared winced as she moved his left arm. She massaged the joint, frowning.

"Not dislocated. Just inflamed. I can give you an injection."

She ran her hands up to the torn bite on his neck and Jared hissed out a breath. "This will heal clean. You will have a scar of course."

Jared nodded. He knew all about a claiming bite. The omega health course he took in school had waxed both clinical and somewhat romantic on mating marks. But in that terrible moment, shoved against the unyielding metal of the car, pain mounting and fear coursing through his veins, it had been vicious. Cruel.

"Jared? Jared?"

Jared shook his head, shook his brown hair out of his eyes. He had drifted off from the conversation.

"I said, when was your last heat?"

"He hasn't had one yet." His mother was standing in the doorway, arms crossed.

Dr. Ferris startled, looking over at Jared's mother, surprise written on her face. "Then...I don't understand...why would he...?"

"He's fifteen," his mother said blandly, "he has another year or so to go."

"Where's dad?" Jared asked anxiously.

"Went to see his friend, a lawyer," his mother answered. "He'll be back soon."

"What...what did the police say?"

His mother shrugged, "Not much. Of course. They never do."

Jared looked away. His parents were betas. He had been claimed by an alpha. He knew what that meant. The alpha that had attacked him, that smiled and called him "sweetheart" all the while causing him terrible pain, now had more say in his life than any other person. It was the law.

"Jared," Dr. Ferris said, "I need to examine you. Where you were penetrated. Do I have your permission?"

"Mom?" Jared reached out. He suddenly wanted his mother close, holding his hand.

She pushed away from the door frame and said, "I'll be just outside."

Jared turned his face away. No reason to cry. And no reason to expect things to be different than they were. Especially now.

"Here we go," Dr. Ferris said her voice filled with awful sympathy, as she maneuvered him down onto his back. He bent his knees, robe falling open, then draped an arm over his eyes, let his sleeve blot up his tears.

The doctor's hands were gentle, but the touch was jarring. He had to touched himself there sometimes, felt the smooth whorl of muscle, fingertips making him tingle. But it was different now. The whole area ached and burned, it felt open and broken.

"Jared, you need stitches. Just a few. I'll numb you up for that. When...when you see your alpha, you need to tell him...ten days. He needs to wait at least ten days." Dr. Ferris' voice faltered.

"I don't want to see him again!"

The doctor took him by the shoulders, eased him back up until he was sitting. "Jared, when your parents are both here, you need to talk to them about this. You need to understand what it means."

"I know what it means!" Jared gasped, "but I didn't agree. I didn't agree to this!"

Dr. Ferris opened her arms, swept him up close. She let him sob on her shoulder, thin shoulders shaking.

After a long moment, she eased away, brushed at the tears on his cheeks with her thumbs.

"I'll get you some painkillers first," she said, "Then we'll numb you and do the stitches."

***

The painkillers made him feel loose and strange. The pain was muted, hidden behind a wall, but he couldn't sleep. Every creak of the old house had him jerking awake, eyes darting about. He got up, wrapped his blanket around his shoulders, and wandered downstairs.

His dad was sitting on the couch, prematurely gray hair messy and in his eyes, shoulders slumped. He raised his head when he heard Jared's approach and tried to smile.

"Hey. Can't sleep?"

Jared shook his head. Clutched his comforter close around his shoulders.

"Wanna bed down on the couch? I'll watch over you."

Jared lay down, his head in his dad's lap, feet dangling over the end of the couch. His dad looked over at Jared's bare feet and chuckled.

"Getting bigger every day."

His father reached down, threaded his fingers through Jared's hair. Jared felt his stomach lurch. He jerked upright, rubbed a hand through his own hair. Tried to remove the phantom sensation of a tight fist. The ghost scent of tobacco and lavender.

"Did I do something wrong?"

Jared shrugged. Turned around so that his head was at the end of the couch and his feet in his father's lap. Watched his father smile and tuck the comforter ends under to warm his feet and cover his toes.

Jared yawned. His eyes felt weighted and he did feel safe, his father beside him, no longer bigger than him but still imposing in every way that mattered, the one person who had never let him down. It was nice to pretend for a while that everything wasn't real.

"Your mom...she told me some things. I think they're crap. I want you to know I'll go to bat for you. I'm here, and I'm gonna protect you."

Jared smiled. At this moment, dulled by painkillers and lulled by his father's gentle voice and touch, it was easy to believe. Everything wasn't fine. But in this moment, he could fall to sleep thinking that it was.


	3. Chapter 3

Jared's eyes fluttered open. He was tucked up under his comforter, warm and cozy. Late morning light was streaming in through the blinds, hazy dust motes dancing in the air. There was a rattle from the kitchen, the clink of cups and plates. He untucked his nose from the blanket and sniffed the air: mom, dad, home.

He started to sit up, and then winced, gasping in pain. Felt with one shaking hand the thick bandage on his neck, the wadded padding between his legs. Stood in the moment where it all clicked into place and became real.

"Dad?" Jared croaked out.

His mother appeared in the doorway, arms crossed. "He went down to the police station."

"Oh."

He clutched his comforter around his shoulders, feeling strangely exposed.

"Go get cleaned up and change your bandages. I'll make you breakfast."

Jared trudged upstairs, went into his room. There was the faint metallic scent of blood from a stained towel left on the floor, but otherwise it looked the same as it always had. This room of the old house had built-in bookshelves from floor to ceiling all along one wall. Jared's shelves were crammed with books, with logic puzzlers and teasers his father had picked up along the way, including his old Rubic's cube, long since solved by both of them. The mini chess set for long car rides, his mom driving and he and his dad both crammed in the backseat, good natured trash talk between them. Same dark blue sheets and old braided rug. Nothing different but the blood and the state of himself.

Jared threw the towel in his hamper and went into the bathroom, stripping off his pajamas. He tossed the wadded fabric that had been between his legs into the the trash, grimacing at the streaks of red. Turned on the shower and climbed under the steamy spray. He washed himself gingerly, pads of his fingertips circling. In the past he had loved taking a long shower, his mother had complained about the water bill and his father had winked knowingly, but now he craved layers between himself and the world. Sweatpants. A parka. A suit of armor. As many heavy layers covering his skin as he could get.

He reached back carefully and felt between his legs. There was a delicate ridge along the sore muscle, sewn closed with Dr. Ferris' small, careful stitches. An omega in heat could tear from an overly aggressive encounter with an alpha partner, an omega in childbirth could tear bringing forth life. How many more times would he be pulled open, only to be repaired, like a chew toy swung around by an ill-behaved hound?

He washed his hair, his face. Climbed out shivering and dried off quickly. Standing in front of the mirror, he saw a skinny boy, tall for his age and too tall for an omega. Wet brown hair and wet hazel eyes. Red inflamed tissue on the side of his long neck. Innocent and child-like still. Not an omega any alpha should want.

Jared got dressed. Flannel pajama bottoms and another padded bandage at the seat of his pants, a bandage covering the bite. T-shirt, sweat shirt, thick socks. Comforter back around his shoulders.

He wandered downstairs and into the kitchen, then froze, dropping his blanket. Scent of alpha in his nose. The bitter stink of tobacco, the metallic click of a lighter.

The man from last night was sitting at the kitchen table across from his mother. Expensive coat draped over the back of the spindly chair, his pink stripped shirt sleeves rolled up on his strong forearms, revealing thick dark hair. He brought his lit cigarette to his mouth, pink lips sucking obscenely on the paper. Blew a haze of gray smoke up to the ceiling. "Hello, sweetheart."

***

"Jared, sit down," his mother said.

Not taking his eyes off the alpha, Jared slid numbly into a chair. His whole body felt stiff and cold. The alpha smiled, eyes twinkling. Jared thought absurdly for a moment how handsome the alpha looked, a beautiful plant hiding a deadly toxin inside its leaves.

"Your mother told me you slept well. We've been talking about your future."

"I want Dad," Jared said quickly. Even his mouth felt stiff and clumsy.

"Your father--"

"Daddy's been called away," the alpha interrupted,tapping his cigarette on the saucer in front of him, "It's safer for everyone that he not be here."

"But Dad...Dad said..."

"Quiet," the alpha said and Jared, floundering, closed his mouth.

"Let's start over," the alpha said smoothly, leaning back and crossing one leg over the other. Jared could see the bright pink color of one sock, perfectly matched to the stripes on the alpha's dress shirt, "My name is Jeffrey Morgan. Sometimes, I'll let you call me Jeff. Most of the time, you'll call me Alpha. I'm here to arrange for your omega price and collect you. Your mother and I have been coming to an understanding."

"I don't want to go with you!" Jared said fiercely.

Jeff smiled, "You're a smart boy, Jared. Smartest in your class. One of your many recommendations. Let's see how well you remember your lessons from your omega studies class. Do you have to come with me?"

Jared looked at his mother, face stricken.

"Jared was raised like a beta," his mother supplied, "He isn't going to see it your way."

"I...I can fight the claim," Jared said quickly, mind racing,"Omegas can do that."

Jeff looked on indulgently, "An omega of age can dispute a claim. An underage omega needs an alpha to file for them. I'm assuming that's why your parents had you on the fast track to graduation, an institution can act as an alpha for an omega who has none."

Jared looked questioningly at his mother. She shrugged but the gesture now looked forced instead of cold-hearted. "I suggested it to your father. That it wouldn't hurt you to skip a year. Once you were in college, you would have protections we couldn't provide."

Jeff laughed derisively, "Betas and their 'modern' ideas! In a traditional community, your parents would have been required to hand you over to an alpha to raise. Only an alpha can protect and guide an omega. Mercy on the beta who tries, isn't that right Mrs. Padalecki?"

Jared's mother didn't respond, but Jared could see her shoulders shaking slightly.

"Pity about your sister," Jeff continued, dark eyes bright with malicious good humor, "But a good lesson on knowing one's place."

"I'm sure you know all about me," Jared's mother said tightly, "But we're talking about Jared's future here."

"Of course."

"I want you to file the claim paperwork today. You have total responsibility for him. No other alphas. Only you."

"Mom!" Jared shouted, "I don't want to go with him!"

Jeff frowned at him, features made ugly with annoyance, "Be still. This is not your decision."

"Mom, please," Jared pleaded, although he trembled at the tone in Jeff's voice.

Jeff stood, looming over both Jared and his mother. Jared felt himself shrink back in his chair.

"Okay," Jeff said, voice deceptively mild, "This is how it's going to go down. I write your parents a nice fat check, swear to take you as my mate and never bother them again, and you get in my car like a nice biddable omega. Maybe we send them a few birth announcements when the pups come.

"Or you can refuse. And I can get Boyd and Mikey in here and take you anyway. And maybe your dad gets his legs broken on the way home. Maybe the bank calls in the loan on your mom's bookstore. Or maybe I don't take you. Maybe instead you find yourself on the side of the highway waiting for a car that never comes, and a pickup truck of alphas comes driving up the road--"

"Please!" Jared's mother shouted, jerking out of her chair. Then she stilled and sat back down, outward demeanor calm. "Please. Jared will go with you."

"Great," Jeff said, shrugging into his suit jacket, "then let's do this traditionally, if you don't mind. I like to keep to the old ways."

"Jared, come here," his mother said.

Confused, Jared stood and inched his way over to his mother. What did she want him to do?

His mother stood so that they were face to face. She reached out, brushed his bangs back. Tried to smile. Her eyes were wet with unshed tears. Then she slapped him across the face so hard he stumbled and fell to the floor.

Jared lay there, cheek burning, gasping in shock. Neither of his parents had ever struck him before.

"He's yours," she said and then walked out the back door, letting the screen swing shut behind her.

Jared lay on the floor, head pillowed by the rag rug on the floor. There seemed to be no reason to get up. He watched from his crazy sideways angle as Jeff pulled a checkbook out of his pocket, scribbled an amount and then placed the check under the red polka dot sugar bowl that always sat in the middle of the kitchen table.

"Come on, sweetheart," Jeff said and then he was lifting Jared into his arms, grunting a little with the effort. Jared wriggled to get down, then let out a sharp cry when Jeff pinched his thigh.

"Settle," Jeff said sternly and Jared froze, going stiff in his grasp.

Out on the porch, the sun was fierce and stung Jared's eyes. He saw Boyd step up to open the car door, felt himself being placed on the backseat. Jeff slid in beside him and then his head was being positioned on Jeff's lap, Jeff's fingers carding through his hair, scent of lavender and tobacco in his nostrils.

"Right back where you belong," Jeff said, smiling down at him fondly and Jared bit his lip to stifle his protest. Before Jared knew it, the black car was rumbling away from his home, from everything he'd ever known. He hadn't even gotten to say goodbye.


	4. Chapter 4

Jared jerked awake in the car. For a minute, he couldn't remember where he was.

Then he felt the fist tighten in his hair, a warning. Allowed his head to be repositioned on Jeff's lap.

Jared's back was aching from the cramped position. He wasn't short enough to stretch out in the back seat of a car, and his legs were tingly from their cramped position. He chanced a quick look up. Jeff was staring straight ahead, face pleased and mild.

From his place on Jeff's lap, Jared could see sections of sky through the tinted windows but not much else. They must have been driving for at least an hour, and Jared felt slightly carsick as well as thirsty. He couldn't believe he had drifted off to sleep.

"Sit up, baby," Jeff said suddenly, anchoring his hand in Jared's hair and using it to pull him into a sitting position. The car was gliding down a road set among rolling hills. Everything was green and lush and among the trees and manicured lawns Jared could see large houses, spaced out well away from one another.

"Where are we?" He said unthinking and then winced when Jeff's fisted his hair again and yanked painfully on his scalp.

Quiet, Jared watched as they turned into a driveway, a gate swinging smoothly open to let them pass, and then expansive lines of a Spanish-style home can into view.

"Give us a moment," Jeff said to Boyd and he and the other beta, the driver, exited the car, leaving only the ticking sounds of the cooling engine.

"Let's get some things straight," Jeff said pleasantly, although his hand was still tight in Jared's hair," I don't care how you were raised. You're an omega. You're my omega. Omegas don't talk without permission. You wait until I ask you something and then you answer me. Do you understand?" He tugged harder on Jared's hair.

"Yes," Jared gasped.

"'Yes, alpha'."

"Yes, alpha."

"Good," Jeff said, releasing his handful of hair. He stroked one large hand tenderly down Jared's thin back. "You're a smart boy. I expect you'll catch on quickly."

He opened the door and slid out, then offered a hand to Jared. "Come see my home."

Jeff led Jared into the large foyer, stone floor smooth under Jared's sock clad feet. The ceiling soared above them, plaster walls in warm earth tones, large lights with amber shades set into the walls.

"What do you think?" Jeff asked.

"It's beautiful," Jared said, conscious of his hand in Jeff's, the firm grip imprisoning his fingers.

"My weekend home," Jeff said softly, as if he was confiding a secret to Jared, "I have a place in the city but this is my indulgence. My place to relax. This is where you'll stay."

Jeff led him through the house, pointing out the living areas, the study, the game room. Up a spiral flight of stairs and into a capacious hallway and Jared could see every so often a keypad on a door, red alarm light blinking.

Jeff caught him looking and smiled. "I'm sure you'll stick to the rooms where you belong. It doesn't pay to be nosy."

Jeff pulled open the double doors at the end of the hallway and gestured for Jared to enter. The room was large and bright, light streaming in from the bank of floor to ceiling windows on one side of the room, framed with satiny draping. Jared took a step inside, toes curling in lush patterned carpet. In the middle of the room a huge bed dominated, piled with overstuffed pillows. Jared jerked his eyes quickly away, looking up at the coffered ceiling instead.

"Do you like it?" Jeff said, his smile seemingly shy and earnest. Jared swallowed hard. Nodded.

"Say, 'Yes,alpha'."

"Yes, alpha," Jared parroted dutifully.

"Look!" Jeff swung open one set of the wide double closets. "These are all yours."

Jared looked at the clothes hanging within. Clothes, more clothes than he ever seen for one person. Thin knit sweaters, luxurious under his fingers, meant to hug the body. V-neck t-shirts, so tissue thin and tight as to reveal the shape and color of the nipples of the wearer. Expensive denim as soft as a cloud. It looked like the clothes of an beta supermodel, Jared thought, fingering the garments numbly. He couldn't imagine how they would look on him, skinny and awkward, knobby wrists catching on the fine material.

"I thought you'd look great in jewel tones, sweetheart."

Jared checked the tag on a pair of jeans. His size. Everything was in his exact size.

Jeff pulled open a drawer, smile sly. "And these."

Panties in emerald, topaz and garnet. Silky and skimpy, trimmed with lace and ribbons.

Jared jerked away, was halfway across the room before he could stop himself, panting in terror.

"Hey," Jeff came up behind Jared, turned him around with one fist tight on the sleeve of Jared's shirt.

"I don't want to, please--"

"Hush now."

Jared let himself be turned, but kept his eyes down. Felt Jeff reach out and clasp his chin, tilt his face up, putting tension on his neck.

"I might seem like a nice guy," said Jeff mildly, "And that's what you're gonna want me to be. Nice. Nice to you. Nice to your folks. So let's work at keeping me nice okay. Otherwise things aren't going to go well. And I want this to go well, don't you?"

"Yes."

"Yes what?"

"Yes Alpha."

"Come with me," Jeff said, hand firm on the back of Jared's neck, forcefully guiding him out of the room and back down the stairs.

Jeff propelled him through a large gleaming kitchen, fixtures in copper, and then he was dragging Jared down the basement steps, the harsh grey cement walls a sharp contrast to the welcoming palette of the rest of the home. In the middle of the barren basement room was a strange contraption sitting on a padded mat, a lone filing cabinet and a large metal cage. Jared dug in his heels and struggled in Jeff's grip. Yelped when Jeff dug his fingers into his neck and pinched a nerve.

"Settle," Jeff said and Jared settled, shivering.

"Do you know what that is?" Jeff asked pointing to the strange bit of furniture and Jared tried to shake his head, body twisting in pain. Jeff sighed in annoyance. "When I was growing up they were kept out in plain sight. Usually in the living room. No reason you can't watch the game while you're waiting for your knot to go down. But nowadays people are more sensitive about these things. It's a breeding bench. It has many uses. Some of them more enjoyable than others."

Jeff led Jared over to the bench and quickly pressed him down, strapping his arms into position. Jared struggled in his bonds, legs churning, then yelped again when Jeff smacked his ass hard with an open hand.

"Don't!"

"Maybe you're not as smart as your teacher thought you were," Jeff said thoughtfully and drew a silvery switchblade from his pocket, used it to slice Jared's pajama bottoms off and pull them away from his legs. Jared screamed the minute the cold air hit his legs. He was back outside, back over the end of that car, blood and pain and fear--

"The doctor said," Jared babbled in terror, "the doctor said to wait--"

"Shh," Jeff said reprovingly, "This is a lesson. I want you to be a good omega. A good omega sleeps upstairs by my side and eats at my table and gets to swim in the pool outside. A good omega says thank you when his alpha does nice things for him. A bad omega has to be downstairs, in the cage or on the breeding bench. A bad omega had to be punished."

"I'll be good, I'll be good, please don't--"

"A good omega doesn't speak out of turn," Jeff said and he stood and walked over to the filing cabinet, extracted an item. Bent and wrenched Jared's mouth open, shoving the bit inside. Strapped it to the back of Jared's head.

"I can't believe I'm doing this on the first day," Jeff muttered, voice thick with disappointment.

Jared wanted to say he was sorry, wanted to tell Jeff to go to hell. But all he could do was groan, mouth and tongue held down and immobile by the bit in his mouth.

"I'm going to go back upstairs now," Jeff said, "you stay here and think about what you did. A good omega is obedient and silent. Whenever you talk back, whenever you jerk away, you hurt my feelings. A good omega trusts his alpha to give him what he needs."

Jeff strapped Jared's legs down and open. Ran a hand down one buttock and then slapped it almost affectionately. "When you're away from me, I can't protect you. Anyone could come down here. Anyone could have you. Do you understand?"

Then Jared could hear his dress shoes tapping back up the stairs. The light clicked off, leaving Jared in total darkness, cold and exposed.

He began to cry.

***

The light clicked back on, dim and buzzing, and Jared lifted his head, neck aching, body chilled. He could hear the tap of shoes along the cement floor, the brush of fabric as someone walked toward him. Was it Jeff? Jared wanted to ask, wanted to cry out, but his mouth was prized open, his tongue dry and immobile.

The person circled around, stood behind him quietly. Jared could feel eyes on his exposed backside, felt himself strain to pull his legs closed, to try and hide himself. The person knelt behind him. Large rough hand caressing his bare skin. Jared could smell alpha and tobacco and it smelled like Jeff, what would he do, was it really him, and Jared started to whimper behind his gag.

"It's okay, sweetheart," Jeff said and then he was releasing Jared's bonds and pulling Jared into his arms.

Jared reached out, wrapped his arms around Jeff's neck. Sobbed as Jeff removed the gag and Jared took a rasping coughing breath.

"Can you be quiet now?"

"Yes, alpha," Jared sobbed and Jeff rocked him, one hand stroking his hair, making soothing sounds under his breath.

"Good boy."

_I hate you_ , Jared thought, but he tightened his grip, pressing close to Jeff's body.

"Come upstairs," Jeff said tenderly and he was helping Jared up, leading him out of the cold dim room and into the bright warmth of the kitchen. There was a dark red velvet pillow on the floor and Jared tried not to think too much about it as Jeff helped him to sit cross legged on the pillow, plush fabric against his bare bottom, and then handed him a glass of cool water to drink. He gulped down a glass, parched throat finally wet and cool, and then handed back to Jeff. Sat on the cushion, afraid to look up, waiting to see what Jeff would do.

"I'm sorry," Jeff said suddenly, and Jared looked up to see a soft smile on Jeff's face. "This is all so new to you, isn't it? I'm expecting you to act like an omega, but your parents never let you really know what that was. I can't start you on your duties when you don't even know the basics."

Jeff knelt beside him, stroked his hair. Jared bit down on his lip hard to keep himself from pleading for a pair of pants.

"We'll go slow," Jeff said, thoughtfully, "I'll show you how I want you to be. In no time at all, I'm sure you'll be perfect."


	5. Chapter 5

Before now, Jared had never realized that he could be kept in a equal state of both terror and boredom. Terror, because he was afraid of what Jeff might do if he made a mistake, now that he was being "trained" in proper omega etiquette, and boredom, because being Jeff's omega seemed to involve a lot of sitting and waiting.

Every room had a plush velvet pillow on the floor: one in front of the couch, where Jeff liked to watch the game, another in the study beside the desk, a third out on the patio. Right now learning to be Jeff's omega was being attentive and being quiet while his ass slowly went numb.

Biology aside, Jared grimly knew he was not well suited for being an omega. First of all, he was impulsively chatty. His father had often teased him for being overly talkative and now his left ear stung--the ear closest to Jeff--from being flicked repeatedly. Unthinking in the oppressive silence, Jared would blurt out a question or an observation, then wince as Jeff's fingers would swiftly smack his ear. Another problem was that Jared was a dreamer. He would find himself drifting off in the tedium, often thinking of his parents and his old life, only to have missed something Jeff had asked him. Failure to respond generally meant a tug to his hair, and Jared usually had a headache by the end of the day. Each failure resulted in a different physical punishment and Jared couldn't help but muse with sick fascination if Jeff had a list tucked away some where with ideas for each new type of infraction. Talking back was an ear flick, silence a tug of the hair, flinching away or protesting usually a pinch to his thigh.

Most omegas, Jared knew, the middle class ones, kept the house. Cooked, cleaned, tended pups. But Jeff had a housekeeping crew that came through in the morning, a gardener and a pool cleaner. Meals were takeout. There wasn't much left for Jared to do. An ornament displayed on a velvet bed.

In the study, Jeff had shelves of books, and Jared tried not to stare at them too hard. A book would make sitting on a pillow all day much more bearable. A book would be an escape. Unlike the eclectic collection at his parents' house, the books in Jeff's study were uniform and immaculate, leather bound classics. Jared doubted a single one's spine had been cracked. They were the only books in the house. There were no dog eared murder mysteries on the nightstand or romance novels piled on a bathroom rack. But from his study room cushion Jared could see the entire works of Mark Twain and he would have been happy to lose himself in those stories if he only could.

But Jared assumed he would not be allowed to ask. He wasn't supposed to speak. Jeff had taught him how to get his attention: a soft kiss or lick to the back of the hand. Jared would creep up on his knees, press his lips to the back of Jeff's hand, and wait.

"What is it, sweetheart?" Jeff would usually say, pleased, and Jared would ask for water, or to use the bathroom, and would then be permitted to scamper off for a few blessed minutes, time away from Jeff.

But asking for the bathroom and asking for a book were too different things. Jared didn't want Jeff to think he was ungrateful. He didn't want to go back down to the basement.

The few minutes Jared had away from Jeff were confusing. It was nice, to close the bathroom door--but not lock it--and be by himself. No fear of failing to hear a command, or making a blunder. No chance to raise Jeff's ire. But Jared also felt scared and vulnerable away from Jeff. Both of Jeff's bodyguards were always somewhere in the house and one of them in particular, Boyd, had an unnerving habit of staring at Jared whenever they were in the same room. Jared had not forgotten the feeling of Boyd grinding his face into the ground that horrible day. After a few moments away, he would begin to tremble, then hurry back to Jeff.

"Sweetheart? Jared!"

A yank of his hair. Jared shifted his focus back to the here and now. Jeff had his hand in Jared's hair, an expectant look on his face. Had asked a question. Shit, shit, shit.

"Yes, alpha." The answer was probably 'yes' anyway.

And as if on cue, Jeff's stormy face relaxed, smiled.

"You've done so well, baby. I think you're ready for something new. Come with me."

Jeff led Jared up the stairs, up to the bedroom. This was Jared's second least favorite room. This was the room where he slept, held tight in Jeff's arms, wrapped up and suffocating, waiting for Jeff to do...something. What he had done that first horrible afternoon. Of worse, it was the room where, exhausted, Jared wrapped his arms around his alpha. Pushed away the fear and the resentment and just let himself need the warmth of another body. Let himself be weak.

Jeff led him to the center of the room.

"On your knees."

This was nothing new. Jared could drop to his knees now without a second thought.

Jeff unzipped his expensive pinstripe slacks. Pulled out his dick, hard and straining, wet at the tip.

This was new. Jared felt his heart thundering as he inched back on his knees. Was arrested by Jeff's grip in his hair.

"Settle," Jeff said sternly, "This is something all omegas learn to do."

"Please, I don't--"

"I have a gag in the basement," Jeff said conversationally, "One that holds the mouth open. Do you really want me to drag you down there?"

In a split second Jared pictured it. Dragged screaming through the kitchen past Boyd and Mikey, down the dank steps and over the breeding bench, mouth wrenched wide and aching.

Jared stopped scooting back. Jeff smiled. He used his grip at the back of Jared's head to pull him closer. Jared closed his eyes when he felt the soft moist tip of Jeff's cock brush his lips.

"Open."

Jared opened, let Jeff feed the thick flesh into his mouth, stuffing him full. Listened to Jeff give instructions on how to lick, suck, be mindful of his teeth. He felt wrapped in gauze, distant from what was happening.

After a few moments, Jeff tilted his head back and moaned and Jared let a little of himself come back into the present. This was easy. This was the easiest thing yet. The motions Jeff was requiring Jared to make with his mouth were simple and repetitive, and it was easy to let the mind drift while pleasuring Jeff. No need to be attentive, no response desired of him.

Long moments passed. Jared let him mind move him to the last weekend he had spent with his folks, the Sunday paper and his mom's sweet cinnamon pancakes.

Jeff groaned and suddenly there was liquid filling Jared's mouth and he gagged, attempted to wrench his head away, fought the grip on his neck.

"Shh, just swallow, sweetheart," Jeff said and it was that or choke. His knot was red and swollen and pressed against the outside of Jared's lips.

Jared swallowed. He couldn't taste anything anyway, just the scent of alpha in his nose and the need to keep swallowing or drown. His throat rippled and suddenly as if drugged he felt a rush of pleasure. His eyes became heavy and he felt...well, good. Like a stolen glass of beer good. His limbs felt heavy and yet floating.

"There we go," Jeff said roughly and he was petting Jared's hair. Pleased with Jared. Jared felt his body lean into Jeff's legs, his arms move to clasp Jeff's dark trousers.

"Mmm,"Jared purred around Jeff's cock and Jeff laughed.

"My pops used to call that being 'spunk drunk,'" Jeff said, "Makes an omega docile and happy. You like that, sweetheart?"

Jared murmured an agreement. This was nice. Nice not to be afraid of what was next, of missing a cue from his alpha. Jeff couldn't possibly expect him to pay attention in this state. There was something he was supposed to be worried about, but he couldn't think of what that might be.

Jeff pulled himself out of Jared's mouth with a soft pop and Jared unthinkingly chased the tip with his lips, dazed and yearning. "

"That's enough," Jeff said tenderly, and he was lifting Jared, carrying him to the bed. Arranged them both on top of the comforter, snuggled in as close as could be.

"Just rest a while. This is good for bonding," Jeff said and Jared again felt that nagging brush at the back of his mind, something he was forgetting, but he was warm and sleepy and he let himself just drift, held tight and warm.

 

***

 

After that, Jared thought things would be easier. Sure, he had awoken clear headed and ashamed afterwards on silken sheets, but with a solution, a golden key in his hand to lay his fears to rest and make his new life bearable. He could please Jeff and disappear for a while, no doubts or fears.

The next day after breakfast he had crept to Jeff on his knees, licked his hand delicately.

"What does baby want, I wonder?" Jeff had asked, amused, and had let Jared take his zipper down, mouth suckling and licking, until Jeff came and Jared was swept away and under.

But in the afternoon when he made to do it again, Jeff had knocked him away with closed fist.

"Don't be greedy," Jeff had scolded, "How are you supposed to get anything done if your mouth is constantly full of cock?"

Jared rubbed his sore cheek and swallowed a scream. Get what done? The complex task of sitting on a pillow all day? He didn't need to be lucid for that.

As if Jeff had heard his thoughts, he smiled and beckoned Jared closer, scrubbed a hand playfully through Jared's messy brown hair.

"Come and sit."

Jared clambered up on Jeff's lap, face flushed. This part was awkward. Sitting on a pillow or laying his head in Jeff's lap, Jared could maintain a bit of distance from his alpha. But sitting on Jeff's lap like an oversized doll, limbs lanky and stiff, made it hard to hide how very scared and uneasy Jared was, how he couldn't get his body to soften and cooperate. He didn't like the feel of Jeff beneath his bottom, cock often hard and poking Jared uncomfortably.

"I've been thinking. About your duties. I don't need an omega to clean up after me, but until your first heat, I know you need something to do. Omegas like to be useful. They like to take care of people."

Jared sat stiffly, wishing he was floating, come in his mouth and his worry muted.

"So I want you to cook. Cook for me. That's how you can take care of me."

Jared froze, not sure he was hearing Jeff correctly. His mother could cook. She could cook quite well. And she had been fiercely territorial of the kitchen. Jared had never so much as boiled water before.

Jeff took Jared by the wrist, led him into the gourmet kitchen, immaculate and unused, large stainless steel appliances shining and fingerprint free. He opened a cupboard and pulled out several cookbooks, thick and heavy, free of stains or spills. Never used.

"You can plan out the meals and I'll have the groceries delivered. I can't wait to taste a home cooked meal, something made with love and care."

Jared stared at the books. They weren't quite what he'd had in mind when he'd wished for something to read. But cooking...how hard could it be?

"Jared,"Jeff said quietly, gripping Jared's chin to turn his face and force him to meet Jeff's dark eyes, "You can ask for it when you really need it. But otherwise, I'll decide when I want your mouth on my dick. Understand?"

Jared nodded.

"Good boy." Jeff patted his head and left him in the kitchen.

Jared licked a thumb and cracked open a book, turned to a page at random. Realized he didn't know what half the terms in the cookbook meant.

From his study, Jeff began to whistle and Jared felt his stomach clench with anxiety. He was pretty sure he was screwed.


	6. Chapter 6

"Come upstairs," Jeff said and Jared obediently got off his pillow and followed his alpha, up the stairs and down the carpeted hall and into the bedroom. 

Jeff was already impatiently working at his belt buckle and Jared moved quickly to kneel before him and help him pull down the zipper, mouth already watering. He had spent the day pouring over a cookbook, trying to parse out exactly what a "sauté" looked like. His stomach was twisted in knots and he wanted to ask Jeff for his tablet so he could at least look at some cooking videos or use the dictionary but he couldn't ask for any of that safely, so it was a relief to just open his mouth, accept Jeff's length inside, and set himself to a simple task.

"Good boy," Jeff murmured and Jared felt the tension in his shoulders dissipate, as he sucked harder, wanted so much to be good at something.

"You have an appointment in a few minutes," Jeff said and Jared's eyes flew open. What did that mean? Were they driving somewhere? The last appointment had been a hair stylist, who had come to the house and cut and highlighted Jared’s hair, turning it from medium brown and unkempt to artfully tousled and sun-kissed. But what now? Jared felt his shoulders begin to tense again. His lips felt numb with unasked questions.

A flick to his ear. "Focus, sweetheart."

And Jared closed his eyes, applied himself to his task. Smiled as the fluid rushed down his throat, making him warm and floaty. He collapsed against Jeff's legs.  
This time, instead of picking Jared up and snuggling him, Jeff laid him down on the bed and began divesting him of his clothes, the pale grey silk lounging pants and the thin white half shirt, pausing when he got the pants off and saw Jared wasn't wearing any of the underwear. Jared tried to raise his head off the bed, marginally interested in what Jeff was doing.

"Wha..what are you doing?" Jared asked dreamily.

"Quiet," Jeff replied and then his hand was on Jared's dick, jacking him with steady strokes.

Jared moaned. He did get hard when he was on his knees for Jeff. His mind had shied away from the reasons why. Was it that he was performing a sexual act? Was it a natural omega response? In this moment it didn't matter. He felt good and Jeff was making him feel even better. He felt his hips rise and fall as he thrust into Jeff's hand.

"Come for me, sweetheart," Jeff murmured and Jared groaned and did.

Lying quietly on the bed, Jared felt spacey and sleepy. Jeff moved off the bed, and then there was a warm wet cloth cleaning Jared, wiping his stomach. A soft blanket covered him from head to toe and Jared yawned, eyes closing. He heard the bedroom door open and voices talking, but it was all far away.

"This is him?" A new voice, spare and formal, one Jared had never heard before. Scent of an unknown alpha. He frowned, tried to open his eyes.

"Yes, Doc. Take a look for me, will you?"

"Pretty one, isn't he?"

Cool dry hands whispering over his jaw, turning his head from side to side, and tracing the length of his neck. He felt the blanket shifted off his body and the stranger's hands poked and prodded at him. Jared tried to whimper but it came out as a breathy sigh.

"Gave him a little drink, did you?"

"He's high-strung, for an omega. Jumpy. It's better this way."

"If you say so."

The hands were turning him over, whispering down his back and ass. Pressing his knees up and apart so that Jared was exposed. Cold fingers at his opening, then suddenly dipping inside him. Jared frowned, tried to rise. Felt Jeff's big hand press between his shoulder blades and push him back down.

"Settle."

"I see the damage," the doctor said, fingers pressing in slow and invasive, "Big tear, but it's healing clean. Neat stitches. Done by a beta doctor, obviously."

"Why do you say that?"

"He's small. An alpha doctor probably would have stitched him to account for that. If you wanted to use him before he matured."

"I do. Will he tear again?"

"Not if you're careful." The doctor sighed.

"Something you want to say, Richings?"

"He's clearly a year or so from maturity. Why not wait a while? Messing around with stretching and lubricants is a headache. And hard on the omega."

"I don't want to wait. I've done that before. As far as I'm concerned I'll have been waiting five years, not one or two. An alpha needs his omega."

“The more you two are in contact, the quicker it should happen.”

“I want to head back to work. He’ll be without an alpha most of the week. If anything that should make it take longer.”

"Then 'season' him. That's not difficult to do."

"Not sure there's anyone I trust."

Jared heard the doctor sigh again, the snap of rubber gloves being removed.

"Honestly, JD, I'm all for tradition, but most Alphas don't drive the younger alphas out anymore. They recognize their strengths and they use them."

Jeff's voice was hard. "Are you saying I don't have a reason?"

The doctor's voice was calm, measured. Careful. "You of course have your reasons. I'm merely pointing out that you could have him ready in less time, with less fuss. And without your omega hating you for it."

"I'll think about it."

"Good man."

Jared's eyes fluttered open. He took in the hazy image of an elegant bony man in a dark tailored suit. The alpha doctor. He was leaving.

Jared's eyes fluttered shut and he drifted off.

***

When Jared woke up, he was alone in the room. He sat up, cold all over. His clothes were on the bed next to him, the same gray pants and white top, but now with a crimson pair of panties on top of the pile, trimmed with black lace. He pulled on the shirt and pants, ignoring the underwear and hopped off the bed, rubbing his arms.

Terrified. He was terrified. Jeff could do anything, have anything done to him. And he wouldn’t be able to lift a finger against it. Jared wasn’t naïve, he knew that he was pretty much in Jeff’s total control, but there was something about just lying there, unable to move, watching as things were being done to his body. Like being behind a wall of glass, the sound of everything muted, unable to reach through into reality.

Jared tiptoed to the door and made his way down the hall, shoulders shaking. He could hear voices coming from downstairs, Jeff talking to Boyd and Mikey, Boyd’s particular high pitched laugh making Jared’s skin crawl. He followed the sounds, heading toward the kitchen. The two betas and the alpha were sitting around the granite kitchen island, bottle of whiskey and three glasses out on the counter. The three of them looked up when Jared came into the doorway.

“Hi, sweetheart,” Jeff said, “Have a good rest?”

Jared stared at them, at Boyd’s smirk and Mikey’s bland face and Jeff, Jeff smiling, face relaxed until it wasn’t, hands loose around the glass until they weren’t, until they gripped and pinched and slapped.

Jared picked up the nearest cut crystal whiskey glass and flung it at Jeff’s head.

It bounced off Jeff’s head with a smack, knocking his head back, before ricocheting onto the floor and shattering with a crash. Jeff staggered up, blood blooming on his forehead, eyes scrunched in pain.

“You little shit,” Boyd shouted as Mikey went for Jeff and Jared threw another glass.

Boyd batted it away and Jared sprinted off down the hall, flinging a vase behind him, pulling a large picture off the wall and tossing it back, hearing Boyd curse. In a minute he was fumbling with the locks on the door, throwing the heavy wood open and dashing outside and across courtyard, heading for the driveway.

Jared looked back and Boyd was standing in the doorway, not chasing him, just watching. Jared turned away and began trotting down the crisp white driveway, heading for the gate house. The driveway material shifted and slid under his feet, and he winced and fell as something sliced his foot.

Jared tried to stand, grimaced at the sharp edges beneath his feet he was now staining red with blood. He appeared to be standing on a road made of shells.

“You’re an idiot, you know that,” Boyd called, still lounging in the doorway, “Those are oyster shells.”

Jared took a step. Sharp stabbing pain. He bit his lip to keep from yelping.

Boyd laughed, his hyena-like bray echoing off the courtyard walls. “Go ahead, baby. Limp on down the road. Say hi to Jamie at the gatehouse. Once your feet are cut to ribbons, I’ll send Mikey in the car for you.”

Jared hesitated, shifting from foot to foot. Not sure what to do.

“And really, where were you going to go anyway? You think an omega can wander down the highway without someone stopping and teaching him his place? You want to whore yourself out baby, let me take you to JD’s club, save you some time.”

Jared looked down, struggling not to cry.

“Should I make you walk back here? Or should I come and get you?”

Jared mumbled something down at his toes.

Boyd grinned. “I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you.”

“Please come get me, Boyd,” Jared said, a tear slipping down his cheek.

Boyd crossed the courtyard in wide strides, trotting over to where Jared was standing on the driveway. One quick move and he swept Jared up into his arms, carrying him back toward the house.

“Little shit,” Boyd repeated affectionately, digging his nails into Jared’s thigh, “You are in so much trouble.”

Back in the house, Jeff was sitting at the counter, dishtowel pressed to his forehead, letting Mikey flutter around with an ice pack and gauze. He watched Boyd deposit Jared on his feet in the kitchen, gripping his upper arms to keep Jared from toppling forward onto his knees.

“What was that all about?” Jeff asked mildly, although his eyes were filled with dark fury.

Jared trembled in Boyd’s grasp, but said nothing. What was there really to say?

“Answer me, Jared.”

“Fuck you,” Jared whispered.

“Very well,” Jeff said, “Boyd, strip his clothes off. He doesn’t deserve them.”

Jared struggled in Boyd’s grip, then yelped as an arm was twisted behind him. All too quickly the pants and top were puddled on the ground, absorbing some of the blood trickling from the shallow cuts on Jared’s feet. Jared panted, hyperventilating; as he watched Jeff pick up each item of clothing, examine it.

“Tiny rebellions,” Jeff said angrily, grabbing Jared’s face harshly. “You know what you’re supposed to do and you just don’t do it. Everything I do for you, everything I give you, and you still throw it back in my face.”

“Please, alpha—“

“Quiet.”

“But, please, don’t—“

“I see,” Jeff said. “Take him down and put him in the cage, Boyd. Gag and cuffs. Maybe after a while he’ll be more appreciative of everything I’m giving him.”

Boyd lifted Jared bodily off the ground and carried him through the kitchen over one shoulder. Jared went limp in defeat as Mikey swung open the door to the basement, then began to scream as he felt a finger enter him, invading, burning. Boyd had adjusted his grip and now one meaty hand was palming Jared’s butt cheek, dry index finger delving into his entrance. Jared renewed his struggles.

Boyd jostled him at the top of the stairs, causing Jared to grab onto his shirt for balance. “Careful. You wouldn’t want me to lose my grip and toss you down the stairs.”

“Boyd,” Jeff’s voice was steel, “That’s still my property. Remember that.”

The finger retreated. “Yes, boss.”

Jared was carried down the stairs, into the cold darkness. This time Jeff wasn’t even with him to make sure he was okay, and Jared knew that was an additional punishment, even as he cursed himself for wanting his alpha. Boyd pressed him down onto the breeding bench, strapped down his hands and legs. Jared expected him to get up and find a gag in the filing cabinet, but instead Boyd draped himself over Jared’s back, pressed his clothed erection tight against Jared’s ass.

“You’re just a little bitch, you know that right,” Boyd said conversationally, reaching up to tug on Jared’s hair and put pressure on his neck, lick at the sweat collecting there. “Sitting on your little cushion like you deserve anything you’re being given, like you’re special. I know the truth. You’re just a bitch. And you should be treated like a bitch.”

“I’m Jeff’s,” Jared reminded him, voice shaking.

“I’ve fucked one of Jeff’s bitches before, “Boyd said, as if Jared hadn’t spoken. “Once she showed her true colors. Just like you’re doing. He’s gonna see that you aren’t much. Then he’ll give you to me. Just like the last one. Gonna have you hanging screaming off the end of my dick.”

He shoved Jared’s head down as he stood up, walked over and grabbed a gag and a pair of cuffs. Jared didn’t struggle as his mouth was strapped open, his hands placed behind his back. Boyd led him unresisting to the cage and he climbed in, lying down on the cold hard mat.

As Boyd’s footsteps resounded off the stairs as he walked away, Jared planted his face between his bony knees and sobbed. The basement was quiet and dark except for the sound of Jared’s muffled cries.

He wanted to go home. But this was home now. And he was supposed to play along, to be the pet that Jeff wanted him to be. And if he didn’t, Jeff would give him to Boyd. But if he did, Jeff might give him to someone else anyway.

He couldn’t do it. Even when he wanted to, even when he tried, he couldn’t do it. Failure was just a matter of time.

***

The hours crept by slowly. Jared’s feet stung, his bones ached from the cramped cold space. His mouth was as dry as a desert and he wasn’t sure what was worse, the thirst, or the hunger. No one had been down to check on him and he was grateful in a bittersweet way. No one to mess with him but no one to comfort him. And the mounting tension in his gut, waiting for Jeff’s censor.

A while later, Jared dozed off, then startled as the light clicked on, wan and flickering. Mikey came down the stairs, opened the cage. Hoisted Jared into his arms, then started back up the stairs.

“You’re being stupid,” Mikey said softly and Jared craned his neck to look up at Mikey’s face, sad but not angry or mocking or lustful. “JD’s a great guy. You’re so lucky. You shouldn’t do this to him.”

Jared buried his face in Mikey’s suit jacket, didn’t answer.

Jared was deposited on the floor of the bedroom gently, gag and cuffs removed. Jared licked his lips, trying to bring some moisture back to his mouth. Jeff was sitting on the bed, small white bandage on his forehead, hands steepled under his chin.

Minutes ticked by and Jeff didn’t say anything. Jared stared down at the cream colored carpet, waiting, shivering. Wondered if Jeff was going to wash his hands of the whole thing, look for a new omega. Wondered if everything Boyd said would come true.

“I’m very angry with you,” Jeff said suddenly, his voice loud to Jared’s ears. “I want to know. Why did you do that? After everything I’ve done for you, why did you hurt me?”

So Jared said the one thing that was weighing on his mind, the one question and the one fear:

“You let another alpha touch me.”

Jeff looked up at him in bewilderment. Then he grinned, teeth white and handsome, and laughed.

“Was that what this was all about? Doctor Richings?”

Jared muttered hoarsely, “If you let him touch me then anyone could touch me.” It was the heart of the problem and yet not the problem. It was all that he could say.

“Jared,” Jeff said tenderly, reaching out to stroke his omega’s cheek, “I promised your mother. No other alphas. Only me. I wouldn’t break a promise to your mother.”

Jared nodded. He wasn’t convinced. Especially now that he knew about the other omega. That at some time, before Jared had been selected and stalked, before Mr. Collins had betrayed him, there had been someone like him. And where were they now?

“Come here,” Jeff said and of course Jared went. Let Jeff cuddle him close, his naked body sucking up Jeff’s warmth, too tired and confused to be alarmed.

“I would never share you, my possessive boy,” Jeff promised fiercely and Jared nodded dumbly, let his head loll on Jeff’s shoulder.

“Tell me you’re sorry, sweetheart.”

“I’m sorry, alpha.”

“Tell me you’ll never hurt me like that again.”

“I won’t hurt you again, alpha.”

"And you won't ever swear at me. I don't like to hear those foul words out of your sweet mouth."

"I won't swear at you, alpha."

“Good boy.”

They sat quietly for a moment. Jared looked at the antique brass clock on the nightstand. How it would make a great heavy item to bash against Jeff’s head. He shoved those thoughts away hurriedly.

“One more thing,” Jeff said and firmly led Jared over to the closet. Opened the drawer of brightly colored panties.

“I bought these for you to wear. It hurts my feelings when you don’t wear them.”

“Boys don’t wear panties,” Jared said unthinking then winced when Jeff rapped him on the head.

“Beta boys don’t wear these, “Jeff sighed, “Your parents sure did a number on you. Omegas wear these all the time. And what’s more important, I want you to wear them.”

Jared stood stiffly as Jeff knelt, worked a cobalt blue pair with white trim up Jared’s legs. Smoothed them into place with a pat to Jared’s bottom.

“Better,” Jeff said and kissed Jared softly. “I want you to get used to them. So this is all you’ll wear for a while. No more jeans, no t-shirts. Not until you show me you've earned them. You need to show me you’re really obeying, not pretending to obey.”

“Yes, alpha.”

Jeff led Jared back downstairs, down to the living area. Arranged Jared on his pillow, turned on the game. Reached out to pull Jared’s head onto his knees, card his fingers through Jared’s hair.

“This is nice,” Jeff murmured as Mikey deposited a glass of whiskey in his other hand.

Jared shivered. The room was cool, not uncomfortable, but he definitely wished he had a shirt. If he leaned in closer, pressed tighter to Jeff’s side, it was for warmth, not for comfort.

At least that’s what he kept telling himself.


	7. Chapter 7

Jared woke sweating. He startled, tried to jerk away, found himself restrained. Jeff’s strong muscled arms made an effective prison, keeping Jared pulled in close, skin to skin with his alpha. They were covered with a mound of thick silky bedding, the weight smothering and hot. It felt like being buried alive.  
“Morning, sweetheart,” rasped Jeff and Jared turned his head to see large sleepy eyes, a handsome face rough with whisker stubble. Jared pressed his mouth into the imitation of a smile, forced himself not to flinch or wiggle.  
Jeff groaned and pressed his hips forward, rubbing his erection against Jared’s ass. “It gets tougher each day I wake up next to you. Wish you’d heat soon.”  
Jared lay still. His input was not required. Soon Jeff would decide and press Jared’s head under the covers, demand his mouth. Or he’d rut against Jared’s ass, coming clammy and wet in great spurts along Jared’s back. But nothing further. No attempt to press in. No brutal violation. Jeff seemed to be respecting Dr. Richings’ medical advice, and for that Jared was grimly grateful.  
Instead, Jeff sighed and threw back the covers, stretching in the dim light. He scratched his bare belly then scooped up his dress shirt from the previous day—left haphazardly on a wingback chair—and tossed it in Jared’s direction.  
“No time this morning,” Jeff said regretfully. “Make me breakfast while I take a shower. You can wear my shirt.” He strode away toward the bathroom, whistling.  
Jared watched Jeff stalk to the bathroom, lean muscles shifting in the alpha’s back and legs. Then Jared stood up and drew on the shirt. Big, with small silver checks on the fabric, it slipped off one of Jared’s narrow shoulders, even buttoned up. Scented with the tobacco from the cigarettes Jeff smoked on occasion, usually after a meal, and the lavender detergent used by the laundry company. Scent of alpha beneath it all, the smell of his nightmare.  
But the first item real item of clothing he had been allowed in a while.  
Jared pulled the shirt tight around his body, then went to search his dresser drawer for some panties. Any cover at all was preferable at this point. Any shield he was allowed.  
***  
“I’m leaving today,” Jeff said and Jared choked on his orange juice. Questions welled up in his mouth, but he swallowed them down along with the pulp clinging to his throat.  
“I’ll be back on Friday. You can surprise me with a nice dinner. You’ll have plenty of time to practice.” Jeff looked down grimly at the blackened toast stacked on his plate.  
Jared flushed and toyed with the thick bandage on his thumb. Jeff’s razor sharp chef’s knives were apparently not for spreading butter.  
Jeff sighed and tossed his napkin down. “I’ll have Mikey stop at a restaurant in town. I’m going to crack a tooth on this pile of burned shit.”  
Jared flinched, feeling his eyes water. Since the incident with the whiskey glass, he had tried, really tried. Everything Jeff had demanded, Jared had provided. He had knelt quietly, come when called, opened his mouth obediently. He had stumbled around Jeff’s kitchen, reading cookbooks and appliance manuals until his eyes crossed. There was a difference between just enduring and making an honest effort and Jared felt absolutely ill at the idea that giving in and being compliant might not make life with Jeff any easier.  
Jared dropped out of his chair and crawled over to Jeff. He licked gently at the back of Jeff’s hand.  
“What is it, sweetheart?” Jeff asked and Jared swallowed hard to keep from asking any questions or making any pleas or demands.  
“Bathroom, please.”  
“Go on ahead, honey.” Jeff ruffled Jared’s hair. “Such a good boy.”  
Jared closed the door and leaned over the sink, trembling. He had no illusions that Jeff was not leaving him home alone. That meant one of two things. Either Jeff was leaving Boyd to watch Jared—and Jared’s stomach swooped at that thought—or he was bringing in someone new. An unknown person, who might be considerably worse than Boyd.  
As if on cue, the bathroom door creaked open and Boyd poked his head in. “What you doing, baby?”  
Since the incident with Boyd in the basement, Boyd had started what Jared could only assume was a campaign of intimidation. He was always standing in a doorway when Jared needed to pass through, forcing Jared to brush against him. He would push open the bathroom door when Jared was using the toilet and carry on a seemingly innocent conversation while Jared was trying to pee. Jared had no doubt that Boyd wouldn’t try anything while Jeff was around, but what if Jeff left him alone with Boyd?  
“I’m washing my hands,” Jared retorted. It might be smarter not to engage with Boyd, but he was the only one Jared could talk to. Omegas were supposed to be quiet and obedient with their alphas and Jared thought he might go mad if he couldn’t hear his own voice at least a couple times a day.  
“Baby’s big day,” Boyd mused, leaning against the door jamb. Jared turned on the water and squirted soap into his hands, just for appearance’s sake. “Jeff’s bringing in a real freak to watch you. I can’t wait to see what you get up to while we’re gone.”  
“I’m not getting up to anything,” Jared replied. A real freak. What did that mean?  
Boyd laughed his ugly laugh. “You’re gonna fuck it up. You know it, I know it. Soon enough I’m gonna have you back over that bench in the basement.”  
Jared dried his hands. “You going to let me out or do I need to scream for Jeff?”  
Boyd backed away, hands up. “Soon enough, bitch. Soon enough.”  
Jared pressed past him and out the bathroom, shuddering in revulsion as he brushed against Boyd’s body. Jeff was shrugging into his coat, Mikey close by with Jeff’s briefcase in hand. Jeff reached out and Jared allowed himself to be swept along out to the courtyard, bare toes safe on the warm rough stones of the front walk.  
A smart red sports car was rumbling up the driveway.  
“Here we are,” Jeff said jovially.  
A willowy brunette was climbing out of the passenger side of the car, a large purse dangling from her shoulder. She was pretty with her brown hair in a swinging bob. Her wide smile and big blue eyes gave her a slightly manic appearance.  
“Is this your adopted son?” she quipped as she came close and Jared heard the low rumble of a growl in Jeff’s throat. He felt himself cower at the sound.  
“Cute, Lauren,” Jeff snarled and the brunette smiled wider and dipped her head to the side, exposing her neck in apology. It was a typical, traditional omega gesture, but it was slightly off. Scent of beta rising mild from her skin.  
“Hi,” she said to Jared, as if Jeff wasn’t even there. She gave him a once over from head to toe and Jared blushed, knowing she could see everything Jeff’s shirt didn’t cover; his bony shoulder and his long thin legs, his tousled head and panicked eyes.  
The driver’s side door slammed and a petite woman was climbing out, hair wavy and dark. There was strength and grace in her carriage and when the wind brought her scent to Jared he stiffened in fear. Alpha. Muted and somehow…wrong, but alpha.  
Jared turned to Jeff. He wanted to hit him, he wanted to scream. Jeff had promised and now he was leaving for the week and leaving Jared with a strange alpha.  
“Hi, JD,” the dark-haired woman said, her voice low and respectful. There was a gentle smile on her face and she inclined her head, the gesture an alpha gave to a superior.  
“Jared, this is Rachel,” Jeff said, uncaring or unaware of Jared’s turmoil. “She’ll be watching you this week. I expect you to behave yourself. Obey her as you would obey me.”  
She was looking right at him. Jared ducked his head, trembling. He’d never met a female alpha. Alphas were rare and omegas rarer but female alphas were almost unheard of.  
“Give me a kiss, sweetheart,” Jeff said from a long ways off and Jared pressed his lips up in rote obedience. A short time later Jeff’s car was rumbling down the drive and Jared was standing in the courtyard with two strangers.  
“So, what do you normally do in the mornings?” Lauren asked, smiling too wide and too bright.  
Jared turned and walked into the house. Climbed the stairs to the master suite and crawled back into bed. The bedding smelled of Jeff and Jared hated him but it was all he had. The only comfort he was allowed in the world.  
A short time later he looked up and Lauren and Rachel were standing in the doorway watching him.  
“Shouldn’t you make him get up?” Lauren sounded disappointed. “He has omega…stuff.”  
“Let the kid sleep,” Rachel said, and she turned to head back downstairs. No censure or threat in her tone. Instead almost a resigned exhaustion.  
Jared burrowed deeper under the covers. He was alone and safe and no one was bothering him. He’d yet to see what this strange alpha wanted, what he’d have to endure. And he didn’t trust Lauren’s smile. But for the moment he was warm and alone. It was enough.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I added to the tags. There is a brief non-graphic mention of genital mutilation of one of the supporting characters, so be aware.  
> There's an additional note about the character Lauren at the end of this chapter.
> 
> Questions? Comments? You can talk to me.

_They were strange_ , Jared thought, watching them discreetly behind the French doors.  Lauren was lying in the sun, romance novel in hand, while Rachel swam endless laps, precise and steady.

This wasn’t at all what he had expected.  Both Rachel, the alpha, and Lauren, the beta, seemed content to ignore him, most of the time.  Oh, they weren’t actively ignoring him, not in a cruel or callous way, but neither seemed to care much what he did.

He’d taken a long nap in the master bedroom and after he’d awoke—panicking a bit at the idea that he was somehow in the wrong, due a punishment—he had padded downstairs to see what the two women were up to. Curiosity in this case stronger than his fear.  Lauren was lounging on the couch, a pile of fashion magazines at her elbow, while Rachel tapped away on a laptop, small feet tucked under her in a wingback chair.

“Hi,” Lauren said loudly and Jared jumped a bit in the doorway.  The intensity of her gaze and the wideness of her smile were so unnerving. “Have a nice nap?”

Jared nodded.

“You can talk to us,” Rachel said from her chair, although she didn’t look up from her work. 

Lauren pouted. “Shouldn’t he stay quiet while we’re here?  I mean, an omega is supposed—“

“ _Lauren_.”

And Jared flinched at that alpha tone in Rachel’s voice but Lauren just smiled that impossibly wide smile and tilted her neck in that same apologetic not-quite-omega fashion as before.

“Well, don’t blame me if he gets out of practice and fucks up when JD gets back,” Lauren said breezily.

Jared stepped into the room, feeling awkward.  His pillow was near the couch, not near Rachel’s chair.  Sitting at Lauren’s feet seemed wrong, especially with the submissive body language she’d been affecting.

“Sit where you like,” said Rachel as Jared hovered near his pillow.

“Rachel!” Lauren exclaimed. “He has to sit on his pillow!  This isn’t fair, I want to see it.”  She turned her blue eyes pleadingly in Jared’s direction. “C’mon, Jared, will you sit on the pillow, please—“

Jared threw himself abruptly into the wingback chair next to Rachel.

And was surprised to hear her low chuckle.

“Brat!” Lauren said, but she sounded like a disappointed child.

“The alpha makes the rules,” Rachel said, looking up from her computer and meeting Lauren’s eyes.

Lauren flushed prettily and Jared suddenly had a feeling there was another layer of meaning there.

“Yes, Alpha,” Lauren said demurely.

Rachel went back to her work and Lauren—after a long moment of staring at Jared, as if expecting him to perform a trick—went back to her magazine.  Jared sat, the chair strangely firm beneath him after all this time, and tried to decide what to do with himself.  He was used to waiting attentively for Jeff, feeling the small, painful corrections Jeff visited upon him when his posture or attention wavered.  But Rachel seemed uninterested in all of that.

“Oh, hey,” Lauren said abruptly and she was suddenly digging squirrel-like through her large bag.  She fished out a battered romance novel, the cover art showing two scantily clad lovers locked in an embrace. “You like to read?”

Jared did.  Although this was not the kind of book he would have chosen for himself.  But it was a thoughtful gesture.

“It’s called ‘Shanna: The Alpha’s Conquest’,” Lauren said ruefully. “I know, I know, it looks trashy.  But the author does some solid historical research, it’s not as fluffy as you’d think.”

Jared took the book from her hands. “Thank you.”  He automatically looked over to Rachel, to see if it was okay.

Rachel looked up and nodded, then went back to her typing.

“You should thank her,” Lauren wheedled, and now Jared was beginning to understand a bit of what Lauren wanted. “You know, you should crawl over there and kiss her hand.”

“ _Lauren_.”

“It’s not fair!”

Jared felt a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.  It felt real, the first real smile in ages.

He opened his book and began to read.

That had been an hour ago.  After a while Rachel had closed her computer and stretched and Lauren had piled her magazines tidily.  They had changed into swimsuits and headed out to the pool.   Neither one had seemed at all interested in if Jared stayed or followed and after a while he had gotten up to watch them.  It felt strange and dangerous to be alone and Jared was no longer used to solitude.

The tension that always seemed to gather at the junction between Jared’s shoulder and neck seemed to ease.  He wasn’t being hurt.  There were currently no demands from this strange new alpha.

It was too much to hope for, but Jared sat down by the patio door to read and savored this small reprieve.

***

After dinner—which was Jared slapping some sandwiches together for the three of them and Lauren being openly disgusted by Jared’s lack of proper omega culinary expertise—Jared was making his way back to the master bedroom, book in his sweaty hand.  He felt uneasy, slightly nauseated.  The peanut-butter and jelly sandwiches weren’t to blame.

It was the book.  The book that Jared simultaneously wanted to clutch closer and also throw out the window.

In the novel, Shanna—beautiful, adored, virgin omega—is carried off from her village by the Alpha of their neighboring community.  Most of the beginning of the novel was exposition, the author’s thoroughly researched medieval setting springing to life behind Jared’s eyes.  It was fascinating, this glimpse at a world long gone when alphas ruled unquestioned and betas served, and he could see how it might appeal to someone like Lauren.  Someone who seemingly had a bit of an obsession with omegas.  Jared could see how Shanna being carried off to be ravished might appeal to her.

It didn’t appeal to him.

But he didn’t want to stop reading either.  He had never really understood how things worked—how Jeff thought things are supposed to work, Jared amended—and maybe it could help him.  Maybe it could help him make sense of what’s happened to him.

A firm hand grabbed Jared’s arm and he flinched.  Rachel stood in the hall, arresting his progress towards the master suite.  Jared began to go to his knees, but she pulled him back up and back down the hall.

“C’mon,” Rachel said, letting go as soon as she seemed sure Jared was following her. “You’re sleeping with me.”

Jared froze.

Rachel turned back.  Her face was bland, unemotional.  She seemed neither upset nor impatient.  Her brown eyes drifted down to the book in Jared’s hand and then back up to his pale, sweaty face.  Something rather like sympathy flashed across her face.

“Sometimes what seems like a friendly action might not be so friendly or kind,” she said.

Jared stared.

“The rape scene starts on page 84 of that particular book,” Rachel continued. “Lauren has those pages dog-eared for easy reference so she can re-read them.  Or so you can avoid them.  If that’s what you really want to do.”

Jared blinked at her.

Rachel smiled.  It was the first time Jared has seen her do so, but it was cold.

“Neither friendly nor kind,” she repeated softly, then took his hand and led him to one of the guest rooms.

“I’m sure you’d rather sleep in JD’s bed, but JD would kill me if he came back and his room smelled like me,” she said as Jared stood in the middle of the room and stared woodenly at the floor. “So this room will have to do.”

As she toed off her sneakers Rachel looked up and startled a bit at the panicked expression on Jared’s face. “Hey.  _Hey_.  Nothing’s going to happen.  You just have to sleep next to me.”

Jared frowned, confused.

“You know why I’m here, right?  To ‘season’ you?  Exposure to alpha pheromones triggering heat?  JD did explain this?”

Jared shook his head.

“Oh, JD,” Rachel sighed.  She disappeared into the bathroom.

Jared stood numbly in the middle of the room, listening to the sound of running water from the next room.  After a while Rachel came back out, clad in a big t-shirt, hair in loose ripples down her shoulders.

“Need the bathroom?”

Jared shook his head.

Rachel turned down the covers and climbed in.  She patted the bed and after a long moment Jared walked over and climbed in.  Let her arrange him on his side, her small body wrapped behind his.  Similar to how Jeff held him, but almost comical given the alpha’s small size.

Jared trembled a bit in her arms, despite her claim that “nothing was going to happen.”  She smelled of alpha and she was at his back.  Even though he was bigger and probably much stronger—although her body had a compact power all its own—he was afraid.

“Don’t worry, ‘Shanna,’ I’m not going to ravish you,” Rachel murmured, patting his shoulder. “Couldn’t even if I wanted to.  My beta parents saw to that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so Lauren. I had this idea that she's a beta who's never really met an omega. She exoticizes their lives, their experiences, without empathy. It's a fetish for her and she has no real understanding of Jared's experiences. So for her Jared is a bit of a disappointment, she's expecting a stereotype. To her, dominance by an Alpha seems romantic. For Jared, it's a nightmare.


	9. Chapter 9

_Smoke from the burning cottages swirled in the air and Shanna gagged on the taste of ashes and fear as she ran toward the forest, frantic to put the marauding invaders behind her. Although it was night the burning thatch roofs lit up the sky and there was little cover to hide her lithe form as she slipped panting between the fiery buildings. From the corner of her eyes she could see her father’s alpha warriors in furious battle with the invaders, hear the cries of the betas as they fought to defend their homes with scythes and hoes._   
_She was almost to the safety of the tree line when the sound of thundering hooves approached and her heart sank as she pushed herself to run harder, faster. There was the battle scream from the approaching horse and then strong arms were around her waist, lifting her off her feet--_

  
“It’s burning!” Lauren exclaimed and Jared jerked up from the page he was reading, realizing that the stench of smoke was coming from the sauce pan, not the imaginings of his own mind. He dropped the book and grabbed the pan, thrusting it into the sink.

  
“You’re terrible at this,” Lauren complained as Jared stood panting over the sink, hair in his eyes and heart pounding a bit. “I mean, a simple pasta sauce. How could you fuck this up?”

  
“Probably because no one should read a book while they’re cooking,” Rachel said as she entered the kitchen. She was wearing workout clothes, a white towel wrapped around her neck. Her eyes drifted to the small flat screen TV on the wall, currently running through the news cycle. JD had a TV in every room, and both Rachel and Lauren tended to leave them on all the time.

  
“But he doesn’t know anything, Rach. I know more about being an omega than he does. He’s gotta catch up.” Lauren scooped the book off the ground.

 

“You know more because you want to be an omega,” Rachel said dryly, toweling off her face. “And Jared doesn’t need to know anything more than JD wants him to know.”

  
Lauren pouted and Jared began scrubbing the blackened goo off the bottom of the pan. After a couple days he still felt a bit uneasy around Rachel, although she was a straightforward and undemanding alpha. She seemed to see Jared as person at least, and sleeping next to her had become easy and almost comforting. He was beginning to trust, he thought. But then she would make some comment about Jeff and Jared would remember why she was here and feel a bit sick, thinking about Jeff coming home on Friday.

  
Thinking about Rachel hastening him towards his heat.

  
“You should stay away from the stove top,” Rachel murmured as she stepped up beside him and Jared nodded, unshed tears stinging his eyes. “No, seriously. You don’t seem to have the attention span needed to watch a pan. Use the oven instead. Set a timer.”

  
Jared nodded, throat tight. A few weeks ago he could have cared less about cooking. Now it seemed like the most important thing in the world.

  
“Here, I’ll show you a quiche recipe. Quiche is easy.” Rachel headed for the refrigerator for more ingredients.

  
“Alpha knows how to cook,” Jared murmured teasingly, using his voice just because he could, and Rachel smiled at him.

  
“Stereotyping,” she shot back, eyebrow arched.

  
“That’s because her parents raised her as a beta,” Lauren volunteered gracelessly.

  
Rachel frowned a bit at that but didn’t say anything. Lauren had a way of blurting out information, and Jared had quickly surmised that any confidence he shared with Lauren would be blabbed to the world in short order. He was determined to never tell her anything personal about himself.

  
So strange though, to have someone who actually cared about his internal life. His secrets, his interests.

  
So strange to be a person again. Jared’s gut twisted as he thought about how long that would last.

  
Setting a carton of eggs and a jug of cream on the counter, Rachel came up beside Jared at the counter. She reached up to tug his shirt—her shirt actually, the large white one she wore to bed—back up on his shoulder, giving his arm a quick squeeze before reaching for a bowl.

  
Small, possessive gestures. So subtle she probably didn’t fully realize she was doing them, Jared thought. But he was clad in her shirt, smelling like her scent. So similar to the way Jeff claimed him, but with no fear behind it.

  
“I’ll show you the recipe, then I’ll write it down,” Rachel said. “I’ll show you how to do a roast, too. JD likes meat and potatoes.”

  
“Holy shit,” Lauren shouted, then reached for the remote to turn up the sound. “It’s him!”

  
Jared turned towards the television, frowning. On the screen, a man in a neat suit was speaking before reporters, the white bandage at his throat in sharp contrast to his dark skin. His large eyes were angry and expressive.

  
“Who’s that?” Jared asked and Lauren shushed him.

  
“Doctor Charles Whitfield,” Rachel said quietly at his shoulder. “He’s a professor of Omega Studies at the university.”

  
“Shh!” hissed Lauren.

  
“…no one should have to face a barrage of continuous assault,” Whitfield intoned, “A legal solution must be put in place, so that every individual citizen can press charges, and so that criminals such as my attacker face real and punitive consequences for their actions…”

  
Jared frowned. “What is he talking about?”

  
Rachel drew Jared away from the television, towards the doorway into the kitchen. “You shouldn’t pay any attention to that.”

  
“But—“

  
“He’s talking about an unmated omega being able to press charges against an alpha that tries to claim him or her, now shush!” Lauren clicked the sound up another level.

  
On screen, Whitfield was fielding a question from a reporter. Rachel sighed and leaned up to speak lowly into Jared’s ear. “Whitfield’s an omega. Unmated. Twice now he’s been attacked by the same alpha, both times in the campus parking lot, on the way to his car. Both times the university has disputed the claim, acting as Whitfield’s protector. Whitfield feels that he should be able to press charges against the alpha. He also feels that he should be able to dispute the claim, not the university acting in place of his alpha.”

 

 

“He’s gonna get himself killed,” Lauren said, eyes avidly on the screen.

  
“Probably,” Rachel muttered. “Lauren, go watch somewhere else. This isn’t good for Jared.”

  
“But I want to hear it,” Jared protested. He was suddenly fascinated. He knew there were a couple omegas teaching at the university, but he didn’t know much about them. He had assumed they were both mated.

  
“No,” Rachel said, and the Alpha was in her voice, a biting sound next to Jared’s ear. “Lauren, go.”

 

“Fine!” There was no coy omega-like nod as Lauren clicked off the TV and flounced out of the room.

  
Rachel stalked to the refrigerator and gathered up a box of mushroom and a block of cheese. Jared stood stiffly by the counter, not sure how he should feel. He had slowly relaxed in Rachel’s company, but now she seemed angry and he was afraid.

  
“Here, grate the cheese,” Rachel said shortly and Jared quickly jumped to the task. He grated for a while, mindful of his fingers, eyes darting little glances towards the alpha.

  
“I’m sorry,” Jared whispered. He wasn’t sure if he was. He wasn’t sure if what he was feeling wasn’t really anger, bottled up under his fearful promise to try and be a good omega for Jeff.

  
If there was another option, a solution, a way out of all this…

  
“It’s fine,” Rachel snapped, wiping at her brow. Then she sighed. “You don’t need to know about Whitfield. You don’t need to know about the pending court case. It’s not going to do anything for you and it won’t make your life any easier.”

  
Jared whispered timidly, “If I could dispute the claim…”

  
“No,” Rachel said. “Your claim was filed. It’s done. And Whitfield isn’t going to win his case. He’s probably going to end up in a ditch with his throat slit. Betas aren’t motivated to closely examine the interactions between alphas and omegas. We’re two minority groups they’re happy to ignore. And most omegas pass from alpha parent to alpha mate with a minimum of fuss.”

  
Jared hadn’t thought too much about that. He knew that most of his omega classmates had been engaged, but the whole process hadn’t interested him. He had been planning to go to college. He hadn’t thought twice about mating.

  
“Watch me mix the eggs and cream,” Rachel instructed and Jared obeyed. But his mind was whirling. He saw Whitfield, bandage on his neck. Older, clearly post-heat, with a job and a life all his own. Standing on his own feet, making his own decisions.

  
But not immune to the terror Jared had faced, bent over a black car in a dirty field.

  
Jared was watching Rachel add the cheese when Lauren flounced back in. Her face was glowing and her eyes almost wheeled in her head from excitement.

  
“He’s pressing criminal charges,” she said excitedly, “Wants to see his alpha in jail!”

  
“It’s not his alpha, though, is it,” Jared said, thinking about it. He knew omegas could dispute a claim, although they rarely did, but he had never thought about the aftermath. The alpha faced no punishment and the omega was left to pick up the pieces, to heal their hurts alone.

  
“Has to be his alpha, keeps coming back, doesn’t he? It’s kinda romantic.”

  
“He’s an idiot,” Rachel muttered. “Whitfield is under the protection of the university. Doesn’t matter how many times he comes back, his claim won’t be recognized.”

  
Jared’s stomach clenched. He felt sick. He imagined himself, a student, safe under the auspices of his school. Safe from claiming but not safe from assault. He imagined Jeff and his big, black car, idling outside the dorm rooms. Coming back again and again. Rape after rape. No repercussions.

  
He could see why Whitfield wanted to stop it. How could he stand it? How could he get up and go to work, knowing that alpha was waiting for him?

  
How did he keep from just giving in?

  
Rachel glanced up, took in the sight of Jared’s stricken face. “Lauren, go away, please. Now.”

  
“We’ll talk later,” Lauren said, patting Jared’s hand. She skipped out of the kitchen.

  
Rachel began slicing mushrooms in silence. Jared watched her carefully, then got out his own knife, his clumsy chunks in no way resembling her thin, elegant slices.

  
“Don’t trust her,” Rachel said shortly, not looking up. Her hands moved deftly as she sliced the mushrooms, and Jared tried to emulate her movements.

  
“Lauren?” He didn’t. But she seemed to want to help him, help him understand being an omega. That couldn’t be all bad, could it? And she knew things he didn’t, wasn’t interested in keeping him in the dark.

  
He felt a wave of anger directed at Rachel. Rachel who was soft-voiced and patient, who never hit him, but who wanted for him all the same things Jeff did.

  
“This is a game to her,” Rachel said. “She’s standing outside it and she doesn’t understand. Betas never do. Whitfield will die and nothing will change and it will just be the plot of a romance novel to her.”

  
“Aren’t the two of you…together?” Jared asked cautiously. He hadn’t spent much time around alphas, but this freedom to talk was taking some getting used to, especially about Rachel’s personal life.

  
“I love her,” Rachel said, but there was no emotion in her voice. “But she’s a beta. You can’t trust a beta. ”

  
“You can’t trust an alpha,” Jared countered, feeling bolder. “I can’t trust Jeff, not after everything he did to me.” He bit his lip, fearful, the words out of his mouth before he could think.

  
Rachel smiled tightly, eyes still on her work. “An alpha is an alpha. You can trust an alpha to do what they were born to do. Their behavior is predictable. Reliable. Just like an omega does what an omega should do. Instinct. A beta doesn’t have the same impulses.”

  
“My parents raised me to be a beta. Like they are.” It hurt so much to think about them.

  
“And made it that much worse for you by raising you against your nature,” Rachel said coldly, meeting his eyes. “Like I said, can’t trust a beta.”

  
Jared didn’t like the idea that everything about him—his personality, his interests—could be melted down to simple biology. Instinct.

  
“But a beta has a role,” Jared said slowly. “Like in Lauren’s books.”

  
“Did you know scientists think that pandas used to eat meat?”

  
Jared blinked at the abrupt transition.

  
“Meat. They have the teeth for it. Then one day,” Rachel snapped her fingers. “Something just switched off. They lost their taste for it. Starting eating bamboo.”

  
“I didn’t know that,” Jared said, confused.

  
“Betas are like that,” Rachel continued. “They had a role. Serve the alpha, build and protect his society. Little worker bees. But something just switched off. Oh, a few of them still feel it. Still rally around an alpha. Still want to create and serve for him. Like Mikey. But most of them don’t feel it at all. They’ve gone off and invented their own little beta world. They don’t miss us.”

  
Jared was quiet for a moment. Then he said in a small voice. “I want to live in that world.”

  
“It wasn’t meant for alphas or omegas,” Rachel said, “Believe me, I tried. We just can’t stomach bamboo.” She gathered up the mushrooms in a bowl. “Let me show you how to add these to the quiche.”


	10. Chapter 10

"How's the roast?" Jared asked timidly.

"Dry," Rachel snapped.  She was pushing her food around on her plate.  She glanced up and met Jared's gaze with a baleful glare, and he dropped his own eyes to his plate, wondering if he should slide out of his seat and onto the floor. Take a more submissive posture.

"It's not that bad," Lauren countered lightly.  The three of them were having dinner around Jeff's big dining room table.  Lauren had shown Jared how to set it properly, with linen napkins and polished place settings.  Jared wasn't sure Jeff actually cared about any of that.

Rachel growled under her breath and Lauren and Jared both flinched.  For most of the day she had been snappish, restless, stalking around the house, turning on the TV and then turning it back off.  She had gone into the home gym and ran on the treadmill, muttering to herself, but had hopped off after only a few minutes, face red and sweaty.

It was a departure from her previous calm behavior and Jared couldn't help but think he was somehow to blame, what with their candid conversation in the kitchen.  It didn't help that when he looked up Rachel's gaze seemed to always be upon him, her expression somehow demanding, as if she was waiting for Jared to do or say something.  Waiting to strike.

"I'm sorry," Jared said automatically.  If she had been Jeff, he would have gotten down on his knees, licked her hand.  But Rachel had never expected that from him and he felt frozen with indecision.

"It really is fine," Lauren said, her voice low and directed at Jared. "You did a decent job first time out of the gate." She flicked her blue eyes over to Rachel. "Guess she was right about the oven being your friend."

Rachel snorted, a derisive puff of air.  She wasn't eating, not really, just pushing her food around on her plate, fingers twitching on her fork. She huffed out a breath and stood up, stalking out of the kitchen.

"Just eat. Quickly," Lauren said after Rachel had left.

"What…what's wrong? What did I do?" Jared shoveled in a bit of his food.  The roast was a little dry.  The potatoes seemed good, though.

"She gets touchy sometimes," Lauren murmured quietly, eyes darting to the empty doorway. "It's not easy being a female alpha."

"What? Why?"

"She's never going to have an omega," Lauren said bluntly. "I'm probably the closest thing she'll ever get.  Frankly, she's lucky she hasn't been driven out or killed, like a lot of the young males.  JD gave her a chance a lot of alphas wouldn't."

"I…I didn't think she really cared about that," Jared replied.  Rachel had seemed above it all.  Aware, yes, of what society expected, of Jared's role.  Almost resigned to the reality of it all, but aware of the inequity, the unfairness.  Jared had assumed that her rare status set her apart, helped her to see like he did, that their world was terribly cruel.

Lauren rolled her eyes. "They all care about it.  They have to, it's in their blood.  She's just better at pretending than most.  Anyway, that's part of how alphas like her survive.  They pretend they're not a threat."

"That's your girlfriend you're talking about," Jared countered, stung by Lauren's blunt tone.

"And you think she wouldn't discard me in a minute, if someone better came along?" Lauren stood up, scooping up the plates.  She stalked out of the room, back nearly as stiff as Rachel's had been.  Jared sighed, gathering up more dishes and following her into the kitchen.

Then tension between his shoulder blades was back.

Almost like a virus, Rachel's bad mood and restlessness seemed to spread through the entire house.  Even Jared, trying to focus on the novel he was reading, felt himself shifting in his seat, skin feeling itchy, mood irritable.  Rachel stomped through the house, stopping in the room Jared was in every few minutes, her gaze heavy.  Jared's skin crawled.

"I'm going to bed," he announced finally, although it was early.

"Fine," Lauren huffed, nose deep in a magazine. Rachel didn't say anything.

Jared stood and stretched.  Rachel was watching him, and he shrank back down, feeling exposed in his t-shirt.  He left the room and headed upstairs.  He didn't want to sleep with Rachel, it suddenly felt unsafe, and he lingered before the guest room door, before heading farther down the hall toward the master suite.

Rachel tackled him from behind before he'd gone half a dozen steps.

It wasn't a playful move and Jared hit the carpet full out, arm scraped raw on the carpet, foot banging into the wall.  The breath was knocked out of him in a whoosh, and he coughed out a smothered scream as Rachel shoved his head to the floor, hand on his neck, the other digging in sharp to his flank.

" _Don't move_ ," Rachel hissed. Her alpha voice.

Jared whimpered, trying to struggle away, he felt Rachel's nails dig in, fiery on his scalp and he cried out in a breathless wail, struggling harder.

"Dammit, Jared, I'm serious! Don’t move!" There was nothing alpha in her tone now.  She sounded panicked.

"Don't move!"  It was Lauren.  Jared slowly turned his head. He could see her, standing behind them in the hall, blue eyes huge.

"Fuck," Rachel muttered.  She shifted on top of Jared, hips pressing against his ass.  She rocked once, twice and moaned.  Jared could smell her, her alpha scent stronger than it had ever been.  It had been strong all evening, he realized.  It had been partly responsible for making him feel so uneasy.

"What's happening?" Jared asked. 

"Rut," Lauren said. "Just lie still, Jared, please.  Don't struggle."

"Hurts," Rachel moaned.  She was still rocking herself against Jared in shuddery movements. She shoved up on her toes to nuzzle into his neck, and Jared gasped as he felt her teeth grip his neck, not biting, not yet.

"Rachel! Rachel listen to me!" Lauren snapped. "If you bite down, JD is going to kill you!"

"I know that. Still. _Want_."

"In a minute," Rachel said softly.  She knelt beside them carefully. "Let him up and we'll make it safer, promise.  Just let him up."

Rachel was quiet for a moment, hips still working.  Then she shoved herself up off Jared's body and away, shoulders shaking.

"Jared, get up," Lauren said. "Slowly."

He did, his scalp stinging, his foot throbbing.  He dropped his eyes, feeling Rachel watching him.

"Come on," Lauren said softly.  She took his arm and led him past Rachel, shielding him with her body.  He could feel Rachel's eyes on him and his stomach ached with the urge to flee.

"I can get to the bathroom and lock the door," he muttered.

"No.  Go into the guest room."

"But—"

"It's too late," Lauren said sharply. "You lock yourself away and she's gonna tear the house apart trying to get to you.  Go lie down on the bed."

"Lauren—"

"Do you trust me?"

Jared blinked at her. "No," he said honestly, fear making his voice tremble. "No, I don't trust you at all."

Lauren smiled coldly. "Well too bad. I can fix this.  Go lie down."

Jared's eyes darted towards the stairs.

"You run and you're only going to make things worse.  You're going to get her killed.  Please, Jared.  Just do what I say."

It was difficult.  His heart was pounding.  He walked into the bedroom and crawled onto the bed.  He heard Rachel follow him, darting quickly into the adjoining bathroom, then coming back out to climb up on the bed, too.  And he could sense Rachel, drifting to the doorway. He raised his head and looked at her.

She was staring at him, face creased with painful need.

"Okay," Lauren said briskly.  She had a thick towel in her hands.  She quickly draped it around Jared's neck, tucking in the ends.  She pushed him down on his side, thin hands arranging him so that he was lying with his knees bent, his face turned away.

"What's going to happen?' Jared asked, voice trembling.

"The towel's to keep her from biting you," Lauren whispered, petting at his flank.  "Just say still.  Don't move."

"I don't want this."

"I don't either," Rachel rasped wearily, tugging off her pants.  She had crawled up on the bed like a giant cat, padding on her hands and knees.  She settled in behind Jared, and it was just like being held by her at night.  Familiar.  And now, terrifying.

"Oh God," Rachel muttered and then she was working her hips again, rocking against Jared's ass. She locked her arms around him, holding him immobile, her arms surprisingly strong. "I hate this."

"You'll get through it," Lauren soothed, settling in behind Rachel, and it was like Jared wasn't even in the room.  He heard Lauren kiss Rachel, a soft sigh, and then Rachel sobbed like her heart was breaking.

"I forgot how terrible this is," Rachel sobbed.

"You knew it was a risk," Lauren said mercilessly, and then, with a tone of macabre excitement. "Never thought I'd get to see you in rut."

"Not really a rut," Rachel moaned. "I can't." She worked her hips faster, whimpering, pressing against him.  There wasn't a cock or a knot, Jared realized, with only the thin layer of their panties separating them.  There was something being rubbed against his ass, but he could sense no imminent penetration.

"I'll help you," Lauren said and Jared heard wet sounds.  Rachel moaned and Jared realized Lauren had her hand inside Rachel, working two fingers deep, slushing back and forth inside Rachel's dripping cunt.

"I hate this," Rachel hissed.  "I hate _them_ and I hate you and I hate this!"

"I know, baby."

"I hate you," Rachel wailed and then she was coming, her hands clamping down on Jared's waist, her teeth snapping at the ends of the towel around his neck.  She jerked against him and went still, and Jared foolishly hoped that it was over.

Then Rachel moaned again, and cursed, and began to work her hips again.

It went on all night, the hours ticking away in slow agony and Jared began to feel stiff and sore, unable to move off his side.  The towel around his neck became damp with spit as Rachel gnawed at it.  Each time she came, Rachel screamed like something was clawing at her insides.  There was little fear left, but Jared's heart ached for Rachel's pain, the way that things seemed to get more and more desperate as time went on.

"I hate you," she rasped, over and over, snarling as Lauren worked her through climax after climax. "I hate you."

"I know," Lauren repeated, over and over and maybe she did understand, finally.  There was a terrible pity in her voice.

Slowly, the periods of stillness began to stretch out, Rachel collapsing for longer and longer periods of time.  It was early into the morning when finally she slumped against Jared's back, and then quietly began to snore.

"Finally," Lauren said, voice low. 

"Can I get up?" Jared asked.

"Just another minute," Lauren said. "Let her settle a bit.  I think the worst is over."

Jared rested.  The iron grip on his hips was gone, and he tentatively stretched his legs.  A few more minutes, and Lauren was carefully helping him up, guiding him away from Rachel.  The petite alpha rolled over onto her back, shifting with a quiet moan.

Jared went into the bathroom.  He peed and washed his hands and face, tugging the towel away from his neck and letting it fall on the floor.  Lauren was staring at him, watching his every move, but he felt too exhausted to be embarrassed.

"That's a rut?"

"No," Lauren said. "Or, not what a rut is supposed to look like. What one looks like for someone like her, I guess.  The last one she had she said was years and years ago."

"You said, she knew it was a risk.  This is my fault?"

Lauren shrugged.  There were dark circles under her eyes. "Omegas are rare.  A lot of alphas don't go into rut because of that. Or rut rarely.  It's a hormonal thing.  The goal was to get you to heat, not the other way around.  Still, putting you in the same room, there was a high chance it would happen."

"It was awful," Jared whispered, shuddering. "Is…is that what my heat will be like?"

"It's different for her," Lauren evaded. "Her beta parents cut off her dick."

Jared blinked, horrified.

"They called it 'genital modification'," Lauren continued, fingers making quotation marks in the air. "They didn't think an alpha female would manage well in the world intact.  Or maybe it just made them uneasy.  Who knows?  They had a beta doctor do it. It's probably one of the reasons JD doesn't feel threatened by her, though.  She's not really an alpha.  She's something broken."

"She hates betas," Jared whispered.

"She does," Lauren said grimly. "With good reason."  She clapped Jared on the shoulder.  "Get back in bed.  She's through the worst, probably, but she's due for a few rough days.  Staying close will help."

Jared sighed.  Somehow, he felt he should tell Lauren 'thank you.' He wasn't sure why.  He had been used, like some sort of sex toy, some _thing_ to soothe Rachel's pain.  Not a person with his own needs and feelings.

Back in the bedroom, he watched Lauren tenderly brush the hair from Rachel's sweaty face, her eyes soft.  He watched Rachel smack her hand away, shifting fretfully in her sleep.

And maybe he understood after all.


	11. Chapter 11

Sun, filtering in through the drapes.  Jared opened his eyes, swallowed a groan.  He felt gross, battered and stiff, skin hot, almost flu-ish.  A body length away, Lauren was sprawled on top of the covers, still in the disheveled clothes she had worn the previous night.  Her swing of brown hair was swept over her face, hiding nearly everything except her parted mouth and chin.

Jared shifted into a sitting position, propped up on the pillows.  At his movement, Lauren stirred and smacked her lips, waking to push her sheaf of hair out of her eyes.

"Good morning," Jared croaked.  His throat felt bone dry.

"Worst slumber party ever," Lauren muttered, sitting up and wiping sleep from her eyes.  She tugged her shirt back down over her stomach.

"It wasn't a party," Jared replied.

"It's called 'humor', Jared, you should try it some time."

"Excuse me if I don't find anything funny in any of this."

"Shit attitude…where's Rachel?"

Jared tensed.  It was like a sense memory suddenly, those small, strong hands on his hips.  Tangled up with other, even more painful ones: the hardness of the car's trunk against his stomach, the scream of pain in his shoulder. The scent of two different alphas.  He began to pant shallowly.

"Chill out," Lauren murmured, climbing out of bed.

"You chill out," Jared gasped, stung by her attitude.  By the unfairness of it all. "Why are you even here?"

Lauren stood, fingers combing at her hair.  She walked over to the bathroom and peeked her head in. "What?"

"Why are you _here_?"

"You should watch you tone," Lauren said, eyes narrowing. "I'm not an alpha, but even I know JD isn't going to be amused by your attitude."

"That's my point," Jared cried, shoving a pillow off the bed. "You're a beta.  You don't have to be a part of any of this! You aren't stuck here! You could go anywhere, do anything!"

"My girlfriend—"

"Why would you willingly want to be a part of this _hell_?!"

Lauren studied him for a moment.  Jared panted, glaring at her.  Waiting for a reaction.

"You're really emotional this morning," Lauren said mildly.

The bedroom door swung open then.  Rachel stood there, neatly dressed in slacks and a blouse, clean, wet hair up in a twist.  Looking calm and collected; if one ignored the circles under her eyes and the hectic flush in her cheeks.  She wrinkled her nose.

"It stinks in here."

"I don't smell anything," Lauren said.

"Because you've been stewing in it," Rachel retorted.  She began walking around the room, opening windows. "Get up, shower. We'll have to wash the sheets and air out the room and hope that will be enough."

"Enough for what?" Jared asked.

Rachel looked at him, or tried to, but her gaze skittered past his face and away. 

"I'm leaving."

"That's not a good idea," Lauren said, frowning.  She stepped closer to Rachel, but Rachel sidled away. "You should be resting.  At least for a couple days."

"Rest in bed?" Rachel laughed bleakly. "And wait for JD to come home to a house stinking of alpha challenge and my rut scent all over his mate?  I can think of quicker ways to commit suicide."

"He knew it could happen! If we just explain—"

"I'm going to do that now," Rachel said briskly. "I'm going to drive there and throw myself on JD's mercy and hope he understands.  Or at least, doesn't hurt me too badly. But I can't be here anymore."

"You're going to take the car and strand me here!" Lauren exclaimed, voice shrill. "You can't just abandon me!"

"You're a stupid, silly girl," Rachel said, voice trembling slightly.

"I helped you last night…I helped—"

"What you should have done was locked Jared in the cage.  You should have known better." Her gaze flickered over Jared again, but Rachel wouldn't look at him.

"I was trying to protect you—"

"Then let me protect you!" Rachel shouted back, finally moved to emotion. "You have no idea what a real alpha is capable of!"

As they continued to argue, Jared climbed stiffly out of the bed.  Like the night prior, it didn't seem to involve him.  His input and autonomy weren't needed; like a pet or a piece of furniture, he doubted either woman would consult him. The gentle way that Rachel had treated him, the interest Lauren had shown in his life, had faded away.  It had only been novelty.

He left the room and went and showered in the bathroom off the master suite.  Sat under the spray for a long while, bones aching, skin still burning, for all he felt cold.  If he lingered long enough, would the house be deserted when he finally came out?  He thought about the terror he felt being alone, only heightened by the terror he felt at the mercy of others. 

Worse, Jared conceded finally, was the fear of being left all alone.

He climbed out and dried off.  Dressed.  His skin itched, and he pulled on only a pair of shorts.  Probably plenty of time to dress more to Jeff's taste before his alpha came home.  Jeff.  Jared's gut clenched at the thought.  Would he hurt Rachel, and then come home and hurt Jared, too?

Shivering, Jared headed back down the hallway.  He poked his head inside the guest room and flinched back.  Rachel was right: it did reek.  He could smell her desperation, greasy on the air, overlaying his own omega tang, and the stink of fear.  The room smelled like a crime scene.

Lauren was inside, angrily stripping the bed.  She shot him a look but said nothing.

He went downstairs and into the kitchen.  Rachel was there, cup of coffee at her elbow, packed bags at her feet.  She stiffened when he entered the room, but didn’t move.

Thirsty, Jared moved to the fridge and poured himself a glass of juice.  He gulped it down.

"I'm sorry," Rachel said suddenly.

Jared cocked his head. "What for? Treating me like a piece of meat? Or treating me like a person? Making me almost forget for a while?  Making me wish things were different?"

Rachel laughed, light and bright.  It didn’t match the look in her eyes, but the smile lingered on her face.

"What?" Jared asked, confused and angry.

"There you are."

"There I am?"

"The Jared you were before you met Jeff," Rachel explained.

"I don’t even remember what that was like," Jared said irritably.  It was like a dream, another life.  Each day another piece of it withered and faded away, until he had a hard time remembering what it had been like.  His father's intense love and humor, the wary way his mom had circled around and around him, like something she wasn't allowed to touch.  Friends. School.  Another life.

"I never tried to make you forget," Rachel replied, draining her mug of coffee. "I think I was pretty upfront about why I was here and what I was doing this all for. What it was going to be like for you, eventually."

"You let me _talk_ ," Jared countered desperately.

"I'm not a traditionalist. A lot of alphas aren't. If your beta parents hadn't been idiots they would have arranged your marriage.  Found you a more liberal alpha.  Worked with our natures, instead of against them."

"I didn’t want to get married. I was a kid." _Still was_ , Jared thought, suddenly doubtful.  He no longer felt young.

"You would have needed an alpha.  Eventually."  Rachel stood, walked over to him.  She reached out to touch his shoulder, but Jared flinched back.  Her touch was no longer a comfort. He rubbed a hand against his stomach.  It ached.

"Is Jeff really going to hurt you?"

Rachel shrugged. "He's not so bad, really.  Like I said, don’t fight against what just _is_.  I'll be honest, bare my throat.  Might get smacked around a bit."

"But if you had been… a different alpha…"

"If I was an intact alpha? A real alpha? JD would have had my junk caged before I was allowed within fifty feet of you," Rachel said.  She smiled faintly. "And he probably would have left Boyd or Mickey to muscle me off of you if I'd gone into rut.  Not a position of trust or respect.  JD showed me a lot of honor, asking me to 'season' you."

"You really believe that?"

"I have one more card in my favor," Rachel said, smiling sadly.  She reached up, slowly, and put her hand on Jared's cheek.  Leaned forward and inhaled his scent. "I was successful."

"W-what?!"

"You're in heat.  I can smell it.  Early stages, but it's coming. Soon."

Jared's aching stomach swooped. "I-I'm not."

"Yes, you are."

"I'm…I'm getting sick. That's all.  I'm not in heat.  I'm _not_. I'm too young.  It hasn't been that long." The itch to his skin, the pain in his gut.  The chills, running hot and cold across his skin.  Was that what it was?

"There's a theory," Rachel continued mercilessly, "that the pheromones of an accepted alpha, an alpha the omega has approved, are more potent than any other alpha.  More effective.  The bitch of it all is by being _kind_ to you, I've been able to bring about your heat with ease."

She chuckled then, dry and mirthless.  Jared reared back from her touch, stung.

"Fuck you," he whispered.

"Like I said, "Rachel replied, unoffended, "I'm sorry."

She walked over and hefted her bags.  Lauren was standing frozen in the kitchen door, watching their exchange, eyes wide.

"I need you to stay," Rachel told Lauren briskly. "Watch him.  He might want to go down in the basement at some point, be tied to the bench—"

"I will not!" Jared shouted.

Rachel ignored him. "I'll call Mickey from the road.  Let him know the situation, that I want to talk to JD first, put a positive spin on what happened, as much as I can."

"We could just all stay here together," Lauren said, blue eyes looking a bit desperate.  She clutched her fingers together. "We could just stay and wait—"

"There shouldn't be an alpha here.  I shouldn't be here. It's safer."

"Rachel—"

" _Listen to me_!"

"It's still affecting you, isn't it," Jared said, suddenly understanding, even as the alpha tone in her voice made his gut clench even harder. "It's not just Jeff and what he might do.  It's me and how I smell and that you're still in rut.  Isn't that right?"

Rachel looked sharply at him.

"Does your theory say anything about the effect of an _acceptable_ omega's pheromones on an alpha's rut?" Jared asked, voice falsely pleasant. "Was I more potent? More effective?"

"'Fuck you' is right," Rachel growled, dropping her bags.  She reached out and grabbed Jared's arm.  He jerked in her grip, surprised when he couldn't break it.  She was a lot stronger than her small stature indicated, and she was dragging him through the kitchen and toward the basement door.  He panicked, digging in his heels, but she pulled him along, reaching out to smack his fingers sharply when he tried to hang on to the door frame.

"Stop!"  Rachel, stop!"

Jared stumbled down the stairs into the gloom of the basement. Behind him he could hear Lauren's worried cries from the top of the stairs.  He could see the bench, stark and threatening, in the middle of the room.  He never in a million years would have imagined Rachel forcing him down on it.

He wrenched out of her grip, shoving his way back. Nearly bit through his tongue when she swept his legs and he went down on his ass, hard.  She pinched a nerve in his neck and he yelped, kicking out as he was shoved down, chin rapping against the wood and leather.

She was growling, a low continuous sound, as she tightened down the straps.  Jared felt angry, betrayed.  It wasn't until she positioned herself behind him, hands gripping his hips, pelvis rubbing against his ass, that he had the sudden understanding that he should be afraid.

"Rachel…please…Rachel, don't…"

The growling deepened and her hands tightened.  Jared squeezed his eyes shut.  _She couldn't, she couldn't_ , his mind babbled to himself.  Worse still, was the strange squirmy feeling deep inside that her movements were causing.  Some sickening pulse of hunger, something he'd never felt before.

With a gasp, Rachel wrenched herself up and away.

"Rachel?" Lauren called from the stairs.

"Stay up there!" Rachel shouted up, sounding exhausted.  She stood, the sound of her panting breaths loud in the space, for a long moment.  Then she sighed and knelt by Jared's head.

"I would never," she said quietly.  She laughed, but it sounded more like a sob. "I'm sorry, I would never."

 _You did_ , Jared wanted to say.  But he held his tongue.

"Do you see why it's better," Rachel continued, sounding calmer, "That I leave?"

"We could leave together!" Jared blurted out.

"Jared—"

"A…a more acceptable alpha," Jared continued, stuttering over the words, too terrified to explain himself clearly.  She had hurt him and scared him but Jeff was coming.  Jeff was coming and Jared was restrained and it would be that terrible day all over again.  That day he'd been thrown against Jeff's black car.  Only this time, he sensed it would somehow be worse.

"I could never give you what you need," Rachel said sadly.

"I don't care about that! I don't want this! Please!  Please!"

"Worse, I could never protect you," Rachel continued.  She stood. "Someone other alpha could take you from me quite easily.  Even if JD didn't hunt us down and kill us both."

She stood and walked toward the stairs.

"Come back," Jared called desperately.  But she didn't turn back.

The door to the basement clicked closed.

He squirmed against the bench, alone in the dim light.  The shorts he was wearing were chafing.  A nuisance.  His skin was crawling.  He wanted to run.

Jared jerked against the restraints, then buried his face against the bench and screamed.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Minor character death in this one.

A short while later, the basement door creaked open.  Lauren descended the steps, mug in hand, straw curved over the lip of the cup.  She was dressed in fresh clothes, her hair still damp.  She stopped at the bottom stair, and plopped down, watching him.

"I should charge you a ticket," Jared said wearily.  He shifted against the restraints, skin itching.

"Even I'm not stupid enough to stick around and try to watch JD in action," Lauren replied. "The verbal combativeness is a side effect, by the way. Omegas in heat are generally sassy."

"Please let me go," Jared said.  It irritated him, the idea that she thought his pain, his rage, was simply a side effect of _hormones_.

"I actually would," Lauren said and Jared jerked his head up, surprised. "Believe it or not, this is not how your heat is supposed to go.  Benches didn't come into vogue until the 1800s.  Those kinky Victorians.  You should be in a nest, soft fabrics and mounds of pillows, surrounded by omega and beta attendants, being groomed—"

"I'm sure you can imagine yourself there," Jared replied witheringly.

"This would have probably been my only chance," Lauren agreed.  She twirled the straw in the mug thoughtfully.

"So let me go and we'll play 'Shanna'," Jared said, "You can be my beta attendant."

"I can't," Lauren said, sounding regretful. "I promised Rachel.  She thinks you're going to run."

"Duh."

"How do you feel?"

"Gross," Jared said honestly.  He felt itchy and thirsty; restless and cold and hot at the same time.  His stomach throbbed with discomfort, and his pants felt too tight.  He did not feel sexy in the slightest.  That was a small relief.

Lauren approached and knelt, offering up the cup to Jared.  She held the straw to his lips. "It's orange juice with a bit of club soda in it.  It'll settle your stomach."

Jared sipped. 

Hesitant, Lauren reached out.  She petted her hand through Jared's hair, fingers rubbing along his scalp.  It felt amazing, soothing, and Jared startled when he felt his throat rumble almost of its own volition.

"Omegas need touch," Lauren said quietly, still stroking.

"Mmm."

"Feel good?"

"Yes. I bet you wish we could change places."

"This is wonderful…but, yes, I would."

"Why, Lauren?" Jared asked. " _Why_?"

"I could be everything that she needs," Lauren answered simply.

"She'd just hurt you," Jared muttered bitterly.  They always did.

"It might be worth it, for the right person."  Lauren smiled and lifted her hand, bringing the straw to Jared's mouth again. "And I'd be a good, biddable omega.  Engaged at 12, married at 18.   It would be a fairy tale."

"A romance novel."

"Yes." Lauren set down the cup, resumed her hair stroking.  They sat in silence for a while, the only sound the whisper-crispness of Lauren's fingers drifting along Jared's temples and down to the nape of his neck.

"It's going to hurt," Jared whispered finally.

"Actually—"

"Stop! I'm scared," Jared interrupted. "It hurt before."

"This time it will be different," Lauren continued, tone-deaf as ever, "Your mucous membranes—"

"Please don't say 'mucous'—"

"It's natural," Lauren answered, pulling her hand back with a sigh.  She shifted on her knees, wincing. "See, a comfortable bed is a better idea.  But my point is, by the time JD gets here, you'll want it.  It'll just happen, and there won't be any pain or fear.  Like nature intended.  So don't worry."

Jared's skin turned cold.  He thought about Jeff's dick in his mouth, about the obedient stupor he had found himself in when Dr. Richings had examined him.  Pleasant and mute and drifting, like a doll.

Would he even be himself in the throes of his heat?  Would he be himself after?

"When?" he whispered.

"I don't know," Lauren said. "Soon, I guess."  She stood, stretching her back.

"Where are you going?"

"To get more stuff," Lauren said.  "Juice, baby wipes, a blanket.  I'll be right back."

" _Don't_." If he his hand had been free, Jared would have grabbed for her. Alone.  He didn't want to be alone.

"Okay. Jeez."

Lauren sat back down, sighing.  After a moment, she reached out and began stroking his hair again.

"You don’t have to."

"Best day of my life, remember?" Lauren said, voice light.

"I doubt that."

"It's pretty high up there.  Just try to relax."

Her fingers drifted down to the skin of his neck, and she must have hit just the right spot, because Jared let out a full-throated moan.  And then surprisingly, he tossed his head, immediately knocking her hand away.  His gut clenched, and then the ache building there, turned, changed, becoming little pulses of painful need.

"Shit, is this it?"

"I don't know," Jared gasped.  His dick was suddenly embarrassingly hard, throbbing between his legs.  Worse, he could feel, where his shorts clung to the curve of his ass, moisture building.  It itched maddeningly, and he felt the fabric between his legs becoming damp.

"Okay," Lauren said, moving back.

"Hurts." But he didn't call her back over.  It seemed…better, somehow, that she had given him space.

"It'll be fine," Lauren soothed.  She didn't reach out to touch him again.  She was sitting on the stairs, watching Jared like a science experiment.

"Hurts," Jared repeated.  Everything was aching, little pulses of pain and hunger.  Heat rushed up his body, flushing his face, and with a spurt of fear he felt his thoughts dissolve, as every part of him focused on the sensation in his body, the craving in his blood.

He shivered with need.  There was someone, someone he needed, but he couldn't think of the name.  There was no face to the one he was seeking, no familiar person he wanted, just a terrifying void.

"Alpha," he panted, "alpha."

"Soon," someone said.  He looked up, vision hazy.  Brunette beta.  Lauren.  Her face was sympathetic and she was close, but not too close.  It was good.  Jared dropped his head, breath wet and fast.  He twisted in the restraints, trying to bring his hips against the bench.  He wanted to rub there, to rock back and forth, soothing the ache away.  His ass tightened, clenching down on nothing, and Jared whined as more wetness seeped out, spreading down the legs.  There was a terrible emptiness inside him, needing to be filled.

But no one came and the sensation ramped up higher, and higher, Jared squirming and whining on the bench, focus turned inward, trying to manage the need, the pain.  He couldn't think, and the sounds issuing from his throat were hardly words. At one point he felt a hand at his brow— _wrong hand wrong smell_ —and he snapped his teeth at it, barely missing skin.  Murmur of a soft, female voice and then she was retreating, leaving him along to drown in the agony of it.

Finally, a door opened, and he heard a deep voice, the sound of a heavy tread.  But the smell was wrong.  Beta, thick and heavy and violent.

"Where's Jeff?" Lauren asked.

"Dealing with your freak girlfriend," said the voice.  Boyd.  Jared tensed in the restraints, his whole body rebelling against that voice.  _That person_. "Heard them talking. Another alpha, fucking him over, fucking his omega.  Didn't think she had it in her, but oh well.  I guess it was only a matter of time."

"That's not what happened!"

"Who cares?  I'm clean-up crew.  Let me look at that little bitch."

"Jared needs JD," Lauren babbled, and Jared could hear the nervousness in her voice.  She had moved to stand in front of him, body language protective.  But she was a slim woman, and Boyd easily had 100 pounds on her.

"Not anymore.  Just like the last one. Jeez, he stinks."

"His heat," Lauren said.  Boyd brushed her to the side like a fly and circled around, coming to stand behind Jared.  Jared shifted, whimpering low in his throat.  He didn't like having Boyd at his back.

"You can go upstairs," Boyd said, voice pleasant, "unless you want to watch.  Hell, if you ask nicely, I might even give you a taste.  I know it's what you want, to be ass up just like this bitch right here."

"Listen to me," Lauren said sharply. "Nothing happened.  Rachel didn't do anything.  She triggered his heat and we called JD and Jared needs him.  You're making a big mistake."

"Get off me!" Boyd snarled.  Jared jerked his neck, trying to see.  There was the sound of a scuffle, the Boyd cursing, and Lauren's high cut-off shriek.  The heavy thud of a body hitting the ground, and then Lauren was rolling into Jared's view, hair covering her face, body limp.  She didn't move.

"Lauren," Jared whispered.  He yanked at the restraints.  They didn't budge.

"You're not as cute as the last one," Boyd said conversationally, a bit out of breath. "She had great tits. Pretty blonde thing.  JD let me play with her for hours.  Almost couldn't recognize the bitch, afterwards. And she certainly wasn't pretty no more.  Still, he sold what was left of her for a good price."

Boyd reached up and tugged a string.  An overhead light clicked on, harsh and yellow.  The lamp swung slightly, casting shadows along the walls.  The light behind Boyd silhouetted a looming monster, his harsh features cast into heavy shadow.

Big hands were pulling roughly at the button on Jared's shorts.  The smell of aroused beta, sex and violence, stinging his nose, making him nauseous.  Jared rolled his head and snapped his teeth, growling.  Got a hard slap to the back of his head for the trouble.

"What were you planning to do, run away with Rachel?  Did you think we wouldn't have caught up to you?"

"Let me go!" Jared panted, kicking out with his legs.  He felt a fist rap against the muscle of his thigh, and his whole leg went numb.  Boyd stripped the shorts off Jared's legs with relative ease. "Stop it! Stop!"

"Gonna scream again?  Didn't help much the last time, did it?"

"You're not him!" Jared screamed.

Boyd chuckled.  He walked back around to face Jared, hands working at his own fly. "Look at me."

"No!"

Harsh slap to his face. "Look, bitch."

Jared blinked up at him, cheek stinging, eyes watering.  Boyd had his dick out, hard and threatening, though nowhere near an alpha's size. Wetness gleamed at the tip in the lamp light.  As Jared watched, Boyd worked a thick, rough ring of black rubber up and over his dick, settling it at the base.

"Gonna tear up that pussy good," Boyd whispered, smiling. He stroked himself. "Call me alpha."

"You're never going to be him," Jared hissed, hanging on to his sanity, even as terror made his mouth dry and his heart pound. "You're not an alpha.  You're not, and you'll never be one."

Boyd's face reddened, lips pursed and ugly. "You'll be screaming my name soon enough."

He circled back around, and Jared twisted and kicked, shouting.  The beta smelled wrong, felt wrong, but the worst thing was that Jared could feel himself, still dripping, achingly open and vulnerable.  How his body might not reject the intrusion, even as his mind screamed against it.

Boyd knelt down, covering Jared's back, and Jared's mind went blank and white.

There was an inhuman roar, deep and bellowing, and even with the heavy weight on his back, Jared cowered lower, dropping his head, his body responding to the sound on instinct.  Feet pounded on the stairs and then the weight was ripped away, the overhead light sent swinging.  There was babbling, then screaming, the sound of a two large men tussling, one fighting for his life.  Jared turned his head, watching the two shadows dance against the wall.  The sharp sound of flesh ripping, tearing, and then arterial blood was splashing up against the wall, gray in the harsh light.

Quiet.

"Alpha," Jared whispered.  He could smell Jeff in the room.  Alpha scent and the heavier copper of blood.

Jeff stepped into view, blood on his mouth and hands, down the front of his throat.  Eyes glazed.  Inhuman. He growled deep in his throat, and the sound broke open something in Jared's mind.

He tilted his hips, legs spread, presenting.  It felt only right, only natural.  Alpha had fought a challenge, had claimed him.  Jared whined, pushing up on his toes, his body pulsed, pushing out more slick.  Readying itself.

Jeff circled around him, sniffing, growling.  Then he was tearing off his clothes and covering Jared's back, snuffling at Jared's skin.  They slid together, warm skin and sweat and Jared sighed and tilted his head, offering up his neck.

Jeff bit down at the same time he thrust in with one hard stroke.

Jared howled, and canted his hips up, taking his alpha deeper.  Jeff shoved in, hard and fast, and it burned, it hurt, but it filled some need, it soothed that terrible ache.  He whimpered and Jeff bit down hard on the other side of his neck, hips snapping, knot swelling.  Jared felt something tear, even as his body shook in climax, heat and pleasure swirling up, soothing the pain and the need.   He felt Jeff release inside him, hot and wet and _good_ , and his head tumbled forward as he passed out.

Claimed.

Later, Jared awoke under the harsh light.  The heat was clamoring its need, even as his body throbbed with discomfort.  There was a tongue soothing away the pain on his neck.  Jeff.  Alpha.  Jared tilted his hips, shifting.  Jeff was still inside him, dick still hard, but his knot had deflated.  Jared whined, rocking.  Jeff chuckled in his ear, wordless, and began to thrust again, this time slower, the intensity building.

The second time, Jeff came with a purr, and Jared screamed.  It hurt and it felt good and Jared needed, and he let his mind, who he was, drift away under the onslaught.  There was no Jared, no fear, just an omega getting what he needed.  From somewhere deep inside him, there was the smallest whisper of thought.  Some message from his soul.

_"Not the one," his soul whispered._

It didn't matter.  Jared relaxed into Jeff's strokes, into his role, into what he needed. He watched the blood on the wall dance in the yellow light and offered himself up to his alpha.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end. I hope you enjoyed (?) the story. Thanks for coming along with me.

Dr. Richings rang the bell on the door, and then let himself in, moving with some care.  The scent of threatened alpha had been strong, even through the closed door, and he thought with some dark amusement that he was far too old to get dragged into some battle for alpha supremacy.

From the way the house smelled he expected to have waded into a pile of vanquished bodies.

Instead he saw Jeff, dressed in an undershirt and lounge pants, sitting on the couch.  The man looked tired, but pleased, and there was sense in his eyes, the trappings of humanity, which was an improvement from what Richings had seen the last time.

A football game was on the TV, and draped across Jeff's lap was a long-limbed, tousle-haired omega, languid and sensual.  The boy Richings had seen before.  Jared.  The nude omega blinked up at him, but there was no recognition in those sleepy cat eyes.

"You look better," Richings said, stepping into the room.  There was a breeding bench in front of the TV, and Richings skirted it with some distaste.  He didn't care for such trappings to be in plain sight in a common room.

"Back in my right mind," Jeff replied.  He ran a hand over his boy's head, and his omega purred, snuggling facedown into Jeff's thigh. Jeff laughed ruefully. "Didn't really expect to go into rut myself."

"An alpha can rut at any time," Richings said, feeling a bit like he was giving an unnecessary lecture. "A blood rut can be quite serious.  Although I'm glad it was Boyd and not Mickey you crushed under you boot.  I never liked that little shit."

"Tried to hurt my omega," Jeff growled and Richings sighed and snapped his fingers sharply in front of Jeff's face.

"That's all over now," Richings said, wise enough not to mention that Jeff had enthusiastically granted his consent for Boyd to hurt his first omega.  And had looked the other way when Boyd had worked out his aggressive impulses on the betas and omegas at Jeff's club.  Richings had been there every time to mop up the blood and apply stitches.  Barbaric.

A simple misunderstanding, and Boyd had acted against Jeff, focusing his aggression on Jared.  It was the problem with most betas, Richings thought.  They didn't understand who they were meant to be, how they were made to be commanded by alphas.

"What about the boy?" Richings asked, changing the subject. "Still in the thick of it, I see."

"He is," Jeff agreed, petting the head in his lap. "I mean, he's calmed down a bit.  Three days down in that basement and he didn't let me go, not for a minute of it.  If it wasn't for Lauren we probably would have starved to death.  Still haven't cleaned up the mess down there.  Just closed the door and well, I'll take care of it eventually.  But is it possible Jared's still in heat?  After two weeks?"

"It was an intense and traumatic experience."

"Hasn't said a word. I can't get him to answer me."

"Omegas can retreat to a more primitive part of their brains, "Richings replied.  He put a hand to Jared's brow, then pulled back when the boy shifted his head away, growling softly in his throat.

"Will he snap out of it?"

Richings shrugged. "What else did you want me to look at?"

"Tearing, doc."  Jeff gently pushed Jared's head off his lap and stood.  He snapped his fingers and pointed to the bench and Jared eagerly climbed off the couch and onto in, moving like a cat.  He draped himself along the bench and spread his legs, tilting his hips up eagerly.

Richings knelt to look, knees cracking with stiffness. "I see."

The bite marks on Jared's neck were healing clean.  He would have three very obvious scars. But the original tear to his omega opening, that some thoughtless beta doctor had stitched so tightly, was ripped again.  The omega's hole was wet and shiny, obviously well used. The skin was split and red, but didn’t look inflamed, or infected.

"I can stitch it better…if you can abstain from knotting him…"

Jeff looked sheepish. "It's still at least three times a day."

As if on cue, Jared whined, tilting his hips higher.

"I'll make you a wash," Richings said. "Just flush out the tear.  I'll sew him up when things calm down.  It doesn't bother him?"

"He cries every time, but…he's the one initiating at this point.  I'm exhausted."

"He'll settle soon," Richings promised, standing up with difficulty. "As to whether he'll come back from his retreat inside himself, only time will tell."

"He'll be fine," Jeff said and then added, with quiet hope. "Could he be pregnant?"

"Not with a heat lasting this long, no," Richings said, straightening his dark coat. He left unsaid the knowledge that with this type of prolonged heat, the chances of infertility were high.  Nothing Jeff needed to hear. He'd already discarded one omega.  As long as Richings had his way, he'd never add another broken omega to Jeff's stable at the club.  The boy deserved to be cared for, not discarded thoughtlessly.

Jared whined again and Jeff shifted impatiently.

"Call me if you need me," Richings said, but Jeff was already tugging at the tie to his pants.  Richings let himself out the door quietly.  Climbed into his car and drove away.

"I'm here, sweetheart," Jeff whispered as he mounted and Jared whimpered and rocked back, desperate for that feeling, the fullness and rightness, the warm, sweet peace of Jeff inside him.  The strange alpha was gone and there were no more bad smells, just his alpha's touch and beyond the low, unthreatening whoosh of sound from the TV.  It was the perfect place to stay, everything bad and frightening tucked away, and Jared rocked under his alpha, purring, as sensation swept over him and carried him away.


End file.
